Hearts are All as False as Stairs of Sand -Shakespeare
by slyfoxcub
Summary: Gaara and Harry would both move mountains for their precious people. Little wonder they're related. Look out, Wizarding World, the Kazekage is coming, and the Desert follows in his footsteps! Post Fourth Shinobi War. Grey!Harry. No Slash.
1. The Letter

**This is set directly after Second Year and Harry has just got back to the Dursleys for summer break. In the Elemental Nations, the Fourth Great Shinobi War finished three months ago. Shikamaru and Temari are dating seriously, as are Naruto and Hinata. Naruto is not yet Hokage. Suna is newly rebuilt, but trade is slow, and Gaara is working his way through the paperwork build up.**

 **For the sake of this story, sperm/egg donation was a viable, if expensive and exclusive, method during the 70's.**

 _"Speaking a different language to the current regional location."_

 _'Inner thoughts.'_

 ** _'Written word'_**

-Story Start-

Harry was bored. And more than a little annoyed. The Dursleys had confiscated all of his school things as soon as he stepped through the door and sent him up to his room. How was he supposed to do his homework now? Hedwig hooted mournfully from inside her cage as she ruffled her wings. She could empathise with her chick on what it was like to have your wings metaphorically clipped.

A sudden screech from right outside the window made Harry run and fling it open in excitement and hope. Maybe it was an owl from Ron or Hermione?

He was sort of right.

It was a bird of prey, and judging from the metal tube clipped to one of it's legs, evidently a messenger bird. But Harry didn't now that the Wizarding World used large desert hawks as well as owls. This one had a black bandanna around it's neck, with a small metal plate on. It was engraved with an hourglass shape, painted in with turquoise; Harry didn't recognise the symbol.

The bird fixed him with a glare from a golden eye as it landed on the windowsill. It offered it's leg to him. Carefully watching the talons, Harry unclipped the tube from it's leg. It made no indication of leaving, so he assumed it had been ordered to wait for a reply. Fishing around in his pocket, he brought out some bacon scraps he had been meaning to give to Hedwig as treats. He also unlocked Hedwig's cage and brought out her water bowl. Refilling it, he put it on the floor next to the bacon scraps.

"It's not much, but it's all I could spare and I'm sure you're hungry," he said aloud to the hawk. It eyed the meager meal disdainfully for a second, before descending to the floor in a quick flurry of wings, devouring the bacon.

Harry sat down on his bed, unscrewing on end of the tube to reveal a tightly wound scroll. sliding it out, he unfurled it and began to read.

* * *

 ** _'To_**

 ** _Harry James Potter, Heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter.'_**

* * *

Harry blinked. His parents - no, scratch that - _he_ was nobility? Like Malfoy?

* * *

 ** _'Initially, this letter was to be addressed to your parents, Lord James Potter and Lady Lily Potter nee Evans. Upon being informed of their untimely demise, this letter rightfully goes to you, as their next of kin. My late condolences on your bereavement._**

 ** _This letter is to inform you that I have recently been made aware that you and I are related by blood.'_**

* * *

The breath went out of Harry in one quick gasp. Family! He had family that nobody knew about!

* * *

 _ **'I do not know if you are aware, but for those rendered infertile or otherwise incapable of bearing children, there is the option of using donated sex cells as a replacement, but the resulting child still being delivered by the birth mother. As you may or may not know, anyone can donate, but for the client couple, the option is expensive and exclusive.**_

 _ **After bearing my older sister and brother, my mother was rendered infertile due to an accident. Still wishing for another child, she and my father opted for the aforementioned method. Thus I came about.**_

 _ **Once a child created by such a method reaches the age of 18, or is otherwise granted the status of a legal adult, they are made aware of the identities of the donor parents.**_

 _ **The woman who donated the egg that came to be me, was Lily Potter. In simpler terms, I am your half-brother; sharing a mother but with different fathers.'**_

* * *

A quiet tear welled in Harry's eye that he blinked away. He had a brother. A brother that he already knew meant more to him than the Dursley's, even though they had not yet met.

* * *

 ** _'I should have been made aware of this earlier as I technically became an adult when I reached the military rank of genin (similar to an apprentice) at the age of eleven, but a strained relationship with my father, his death, my own personal problems and a war delayed things slightly._**

 ** _Now I am 16, I know._**

 ** _I am writing this letter because I would like to extend the hand of family and friendship. I also think that my older sister, Temari, will enjoy having another little brother to spoil, as will my brother Kankuro._**

 ** _Sincerely,_**

 ** _Gaara of the Sand Waterfall, Fifth Wind-shadow of the Village Hidden in the Sand._**

 ** _P.S. I have sent this via one of my personal messenger hawks, who has been instructed to wait for a reply. It will take a few days to get back to me.'_**

* * *

Harry quietly hid the the letter beneath a loose floorboard, even though all he wanted to do was hold it to his chest and savor the knowledge that he had family. He would not let the Dursleys take away the hope he now had of having a true family.


	2. The Reply

The hawk wheeled sharply over the newly re-built village of Suna, making a bee-line for the wide window of the Kazekage's office. Soaring through the gap, it slowed with a few flaps of it's wings and landed on it's perch next to a wide desk. A pair of green eyes looked up from the paperwork. The Kazekage laid down the piece of paper and reached out to take the metal tube from the outstretched leg of the waiting hawk.

 _ **'Dear Gaara,**_

 _ **I was pretty shocked when I got your letter. Nobody told me that my mum had signed up to donate for something like that. I've never really had any relatives my own age (my cousin doesn't count because we don't like each other), so I'm glad I now have proper family. Two brothers and a sister were more than I ever wished for. My best friend Ron has a large family; I've spent a lot of time with them. They're all really nice and even though they treat me like one of their own, I've always been slightly jealous. Now I have a family too.**_

 _ **I have so many questions, since I've never heard of your village. What are Kankuro and Temari like? What's a Wind-Shadow(it sounds really important)? Is your mother nice? How come you were in the military when you were eleven?**_

 _ **I live with my aunt, uncle and cousin at the moment, but I go to boarding school for most of the year. My family don't exactly encourage me to contact my school friends, so it's nice to have someone to send letters to over the summer holidays. Please write back. Do you think you could send a picture or two as well? It would be nice to have a face to go with your name.'**_

 ** _Regards, Harry.'_**

* * *

 _ **'Dear Harry,**_

 _ **I agree with your surprise; my siblings and I had much the same reaction when we found out we had another brother. Your friend's family sound like very nice people; treasure them. I treasure my siblings and my friends very much; I met my first friend when he decided on his own volition to pull me out of a very dark place indeed.**_

 _ **I can speak from experience that family does not always get along. My father and I spent many, many years estranged and I was made to feel more like an orphan than any other child in the village. Unfortunately, due to complications caused by my father, I was born severely premature and my mother, Karura, died right after labour.**_

 _ **My village is a military one, schooling for a military career begins at age eight and graduation to Genin rank usually occurs at age eleven. Because I was the son of the Fourth Wind-Shadow, it was expected that I go through this schooling and was even given private tutoring. Despite this, nobody thought I would ever rise to the position of Wind-Shadow, the highest rank in the village. I proved them wrong and became the youngest Shadow ever instated, at the age of fourteen. The paperwork is awful.**_

 _ **The picture enclosed is of me, Kankuro and Temari with our mentor Baki. I am eleven in this picture, in the middle with red hair and green eyes. Everyone always said that Temari takes after our mother. Kankuro at the time was apprenticed to a rather esoteric and secretive class of fighting- the face paint and suit were apparently the uniform and still are. Baki was the only teacher available both willing and capable of putting up with the three of us, me especially.**_

 _ **The hawk is also carrying letters from Temari and Kankuro.**_

 _ **Regards, Gaara.'**_

* * *

 **' _Dear Harry,_**

 ** _Gaara's probably told you about me already, but just know that it's nice, if a bit strange, to have another little brother suddenly appear right out of the blue. No-one ever told us about Gaara being from a donated egg. While the green eyes are more common in the Lands of Fire, Iron, Tea and Rice, you do sometimes get that shade of red hair here in the Land of Wind. So nobody really said anything._**

 ** _Gaara's sweet, but he can pull off the scary look really well, mainly because of his childhood. I don't know if he's told you about that. I'm not going to because it's his story to tell. When he's not going through the paperwork or training, he goes down to the orphanage to read stories to the kids. They adore him, and he likes it as well even if he's not really that confidant around children._**

 ** _Anyway, as your new big sister/cousin, I'm going to pester you about schooling and friends since you don't have a mom to do it for you. How are your grades? Do you have any nice friends? Do you get along with the teachers?_**

 ** _Write back,_**

 ** _Temari.'_**

* * *

 _ **'Dear Harry,**_

 _ **So, I'm Kankuro. I don't know what Temari and Gaara have said in their letters, but I'm the middle brother who nobody notices. It's fine; I like it that way and it's useful if your enemies don't know anything about you.**_

 _ **I saw that they're sending you our old team picture. That brought back memories. Of course, things have moved on since then. Baki's one of Gaara's advisers, I'm now head of the Puppeteer Corps(yes I do still wear the suit and facepaint) and Temari's dating a guy from our allied village, the Village Hidden in The Leaves.**_

 _ **What she won't tell you is that he beat her in a straight up fight when he was twelve and she was sixteen, then forfeited at the last minute. Temari was mad. They've been saving each other's lives since then and now they've admitted they like each other. Baki won the betting pool about when they would get together.**_

 _ **Enough about us, how about you? Temari's probably gone into mothering mode. Anything interesting happen at this school of yours? It's probably a civilian school, so it's most likely not as exciting as ours. Because our training grounds are in the territory of giant sand worms. Luckily, it was only a juvenile and Baki was able to put it down fairly easily.**_

 _ **Kankuro.'**_

* * *

 _Author's note_

Wow, people really like this fic! This actually started as a plot bunny, since there's a load of fics out there that are 'Harry is related to [insert anime character with red hair] through his mother'. Gaara is awesome, but I was tired of the 'Lily had an affair with X'. I was reading through some R.E. research when I read that in the case of sperm/egg donation, the child has to be informed once they become an adult. From a biology perspective, said child would also inherit some of the donor parent's characteristics. Hence, this fic was born.

For those asking which timeline this is;

In the Naruto timeline, this is a few months after the Fourth Shinobi War (the one in Shippuden). In the Harry Potter timeline, this is starting in the summer break before Third Year (the one with Sirius Black and the dementors).


	3. The Research

_Author's Note_

 _Contact has been established! Harry's realizing that his new extended family isn't exactly normal muggle military and other people in the Elemental Nations are going to find out about the new family member at some point. But Harry's cautious; there's a reason other than a horcrux that the hat wanted to sort him into Slytherin._

 _ **'Dear Hermione,**_

 _ **I hope you're well. Knowing you, you've probably started on you homework already. I need your advice on something.**_

 _ **About a week ago, I got a letter from my half-brother, name of Gaara. Now before you start jumping to conclusions, I want to tell what I know. He said that he was born through egg/sperm donation - from a donated egg from my mother. You'll probably know about that more than me, but he sent me a photo and he does have green eyes and red hair. His hair's more blood-red than ginger and his eyes are more slate-green than emerald like mine(everyone says that I have mum's eyes), but I think his dad may have influenced the DNA as well, obviously.**_

 _ **He also has an older brother and sister, but I'm not related to them. Just to reassure you, they've all sent me letters and they're relly nice and okay with having another brother/cousin. The sister is Temari and the brother is Kankuro.**_

 _ **So, due to this, I thought they were muggles; I haven't heard of Wizards having anything like that. When I heard that they live in a military village, I was okay with that. But in one of the letters I got, they mentioned giant sandworms. I also couldn't find their village on any of they maps I looked at (I went to the library while the Dursleys were out). So now I think that they are Wizards, just living in a magically warded area like Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley, and they're trying not to give it away because they don't know I'm a wizard as well.**_

 _ **I don't have my books (the Dursleys don't approve of my schoolbooks because they don't like magic), so if you could look up their village, I'd really appreciate it. It's the Village Hidden in the Sand, in the Land of Wind. They also mentioned 'Genin', 'Puppeteer Corps' and the 'Village Hidden in the Leaves'. And if you can give some help about how to tell them 'I'm a wizard too', tactfully, that would be great.**_

 _ **Thanks, your friend,**_

 _ **Harry'**_

* * *

 _ **'Dear Harry,**_

 _ **Yes, I'm well; I'm so happy that you have family now! Although I did think you were insinuating something else about your mum when I read the first few sentences. I went and looked up egg/sperm donation just to be sure; that bit is genuine anyway. It's incredibly expensive and only done through high-class private professionals, but it's possible. So either his family is loaded or they have really, and I mean**_ **really _good connections in high places. I did agree with you though that it's unusual for Wizarding people to go for muggle medicine(they still haven't found out about genetics over here in England, the closest thing they have is genealogy), so wherever they are, they must be extremely progressive and up-to-date._**

 ** _I went to Diagon Alley and did some research. I brought my parents to supervise me, who I could bring without breaking the Statute of Secrecy because obviously they know about me going to Hogwarts. Anyway, I searched up the terms you gave me. I couldn't find anything for the villages, but the information was about two centuries out of date, so that's a pretty big possible time frame for a functioning village to be established. The only term I could definitely find was 'Puppeteer'. I would send you the book by shrinking it, but we can't do underage magic. So I've copied out the gist of it._**

 **Round about the time of Merlin, there used to be another continent in between what is now Japan and Russia, but with more ties to Japan. It was full of weak points between this world and the afterlife, so demons, semi-deities and ghosts kept popping up all over the place. Because of all this supernatural energy, magic became unstable and lashed out trying to restore balance to itself. This resulted in the entire continent being phased half-in, half-out of this reality; completely separate but still connected by the thread that keeps it half-in.**

 **About just under a century later, Wizards managed to open a portal to the lost continent and get through. They explored and wrote treatises _(which are like the medieval written version of documentaries)_ , then stabilized the portal so it could be opened from either side, providing you had enough power.**

 **Apparently, the weak points to the afterlife had been closed, but the spirits left behind merged into a giant monster of destruction with ten tails. Magic was unstable, and there weren't many who could even use it anyway, so people were suffering and dying under the beast's rampage. A man called the Sage of Six Paths stepped forward and drew upon all the magic he could to fight the beast, but since it was just made of energy, he couldn't kill it. Himself extremely exhausted, he tore the beast into ten pieces; nine parts were it's power and body, the final piece it's deranged and malevolent mind. Each of the parts reformed into separate giant beasts: the first had one tail, the second had two and so on.**

 **Then, the Sage realizing that maybe these creatures would someday rampage as well and would still be too much for the humans all around, stabilized magic by combining spiritual energy and physical energy and gave certain humans the ability to use it and bring it out in others.**

 **To some he gave them special ways to use that chakra and negotiated contracts of aid and comradeship between these humans and the animal spirits on the half-out side of their plane of existence. These gifts were meant to help the humans in fighting the tailed beasts.**

 ** _Here's where Puppeteers are mentioned:_**

 **The One-Tail was the weakest of the beasts and the embodiment of the desert; controlling the sands and the windstorms. It took up the habit of eating travelers, until a priest skilled in spiritual energy challenged him to stop. After a long battle, the priest was killed and eaten but not before the One-Tail's mind was damaged, leaving it insane. Laughing, the beast proclaimed that since the priest had fallen to him, he was now the new priest of the desert and took the priest's name; Shukaku.**

 **A man named Chikamatsu had the skill of controlling inanimate objects with just a wave of his hand and was a good friend of the priest, often entertaining the children of the land with puppet shows as they travelled together. Enraged at the death of his friend, he sought ways to kill the One-Tail. He found a family who had studied the Tailed Beasts in hopes of finding ways to trick them and steal their power. They had discovered ways of manipulating space and time with seals, wards and runes. Chikamatsu studied their arts and built soldiers; puppets with weapons and poisons, then left to battle Shukaku.**

 **During the battle, Chikamatsu lost an arm, but sealed the One-Tail into a large iron kettle. Afterwards, he gained many followers and taught them how to use puppets and control them to use in battle. Over the decades, when Shukaku would escape, the Puppeteers were always waiting and would seal him back into the kettle. The skills are passed down from apprentice to master and will most likely continue to do so down the generations.**

 ** _There's more detailed about various families and clans, Harry, but I just included the bits I thought were relevant. While your new family may be beyond the portal, I think it would be prudent to have an inheritance test done at Gringotts. Just to be safe. It was also give you an excuse to meet them. I'd hate think that someone was tricking you just to get at you or your money._**

 ** _Since their world was originally connected to ours and their powers stem from magic, they might have some records, but I wouldn't count on it. But the people there can do thing a lot like the things we do in the Wizarding World here, so they might accept magic even if they don't know about it. There was a family in the book called the Yamanaka(I don't know if they still exist) who could hijack and control the minds and bodies of others; like combining Legilmency and the Imperio curse. And there was a nomadic clan called the Inuzuka who used talking dog familiars to enhance theirown senses; like partial animagi. It would be so interesting if I could go over there; their books about their history would definitely be more up-to-date. But I wouldn't want to intrude! You deserve to catch up with your family without me there._**

 ** _Your Friend,_**

 ** _Hermione.'_**

* * *

Harry considered Hermione's letter carefully. He didn't want to write to Ron; he was enjoying a holiday with his family in Egypt and he didn't want to spoil it, because Mr and Mrs Weasely would send a lot of letters and be too distracted. He loved them, he really did, but he couldn't bring himself to see them as parents, someone to confide in. He didn't want to take them away from their own family and all he could see them as was a favourite Aunt and Uncle; nothing like the Dursleys, but it didn't take much to top them, did it?

Hermione was sensible, knew more than he did and had parents who would know the things she didn't. Her letter had helped as well. He would ask her if he could borrow that history book when he next saw her. The bit about the Tailed Beasts had been interesting. He couldn't really pass it off as legend, ghosts lived at Hogwarts after all, so there must be other spirit-based creatures as well.

Kankuro had said he was a Puppeteer, hadn't he? So did that mean he had fought a Tailed Beast, had to fight one at some point, or knew someone who had? Harry shuddered. What must the strongest, the Nine-Tails, be like? Shukaku had been able to control an entire desert; and it was the weakest! He would have to ask about that in his next letter.

The bit about him being tricked bothered him. He knew it happened, and he was a celebrity. Voldemort was after him as well, he could use that trick to get to him. He didn't want to think the worst about Gaara, he really didn't. He didn't want to give up on having a proper family. But there was nagging doubt. After all, nobody really knew what was in that other world right now, which prevented anyone from proving the letters false. And he hadn't actually met them, photos could be faked after all.

What to do?

* * *

 _ **'To, Potter Account Manager**_

 ** _I have recently come into the knowledge that I hold a title in the Wizarding World, that of Lord of an Ancient and Noble House. I did not know about this until two weeks ago, so I would like to organize communication with you in order to properly go over my account._**

 ** _Also, if it is not too much trouble, I would like to know when and how to arrange an inheritance test. I have been receiving letters from a relative and I wish to know if we really are related so that both my money and I will not be in danger._**

 ** _Sincerely,_**

 ** _Harry James Potter.'_**

* * *

 **** _Author's Note:_

 _Things are moving now. This is how I think the two universes can link together without deviating from canon too much. The information Hermione sent is outdated; from when the clans are small, (families- not even clans yet)very isolated and villages haven't even been thought of yet. About two hundred years at least before Senju Hashirama vs. Uchiha Madara._

 _Q: Will Sirius be replaced or in any other way not be used at all?_

 _A: Sirius will appear because he is a large part of the plot line for the rest of the books._

 _Q: Will Vernon/the Dursleys become victims of Gaara's sand?_

 _A: Nothing permanent, though he might give them a scare._

 _Q: How did Lily's egg get to the Elemental Nations?_

 _A: This story only started as a plot bunny; I wasn't expecting it to be so popular so fast. I hadn't really thought of a reason for that. I might think of something or it might just stay unanswered. But would that really detract from the story? It's no less plausible than 'Lily had an affair with X', where she would of had to get to the Elemental Nations, start a relationship, fall pregnant, carry to term, deliver the baby and do it all with the minimum amount of people noticing._


	4. The Departure

_**'Dear Gaara,**_

 _ **I looked up your village, but I couldn't find it on any maps or books. My other friend, Hermione, researched some of the other terms for me. The book she found was very old; but basically I know that you're in sort-of-another dimension. I'm cool with that by the way.**_

 _ **It leads to a confession on my part though. I don't know what your history books say, but before your continent got ripped away, there were some people who could use magic, the forerunner of chakra, which you use. Well, I'm one of them. Mum was too, but I don't know if you can use it. I go to a school on how to use my magic, that's where I am for most of the year.**_

 _ **If it's not too much to ask, I'd like you to visit. You see, I've arranged for a blood test. It's not that I don't trust you, but I just want to be careful and check that we really are related. I'd also like to meet you properly as well, if it turns out we really are brothers...''**_

* * *

There was a knock on the heavy wooden door. Firm, unwavering. The young man looked up from his workbench, then squinted up at the harsh beams of sunlight pouring in through the small window. With the amount of artificial light in here, he hadn't noticed the dawn. Looks like he accidentally pulled an all-night job again.

"Come in," he said loudly.

The door creaked open and a slim young man in white robes stepped inside. Kankuro sighed. "You don't have to knock Gaara, you're my boss. You're entitled to come in here whenever you need to."

"You're the Head of my Puppeteer Corps," Gaara smiled. "As well as my big brother. I think you're entitled to a bit of privacy."

Kankuro could sense Gaara's worry. He had learnt to very early on, as a matter of survival. In spite of his brother's usual stoic façade, Gaara was anxious.

Kankuro smirked in that peculiar way he had; one eye closed and one side of his mouth crooked upwards. "So, anyway. Our new little brother write back already?"

Gaara reached inside his robes, pulling out two envelopes. One had already been opened and the other was still pristine. "Harry wrote to each of us separately. I haven't opened yours, but he wrote to me with a request to visit for a blood test." He sent both envelopes spinning with a flick of his fingers. Kankuro casually snagged them with chakra strings. He opened Gaara's first and quickly read through it. "Sensible enough. I mean, all he's had so far is our word. Shinobi paranoia is worse. Some of Lady Chiyo's books do mention something about magic...I didn't know they existed as an institution though, shinobi makes trip into the Outer World fairly regularly and that sort of thing's never been mentioned. After the first few times they got thrown back through the Gate they just stopped. I thought they died out; clans and Villages do."

"Yes, I thought much the same. You think I should go?"

Kankuro looked at him askance. "Yeah, I think you should. Reassure Harry; meet your new brother and get a vacation." While he was speaking, he slit open his own letter. As Gaara nodded and turned to leave, Kankuro's face took on an expression of slight panic. "Gaara? I think we need to break the jinchuurki thing to him sooner than expected." He flung the letter back to his brother who, noticing his change in demeanour, caught it with a tendril of sand instead of walking forwards to catch it.

* * *

 _ **'Dear Kankuro,**_

 _ **I looked up Puppeteers with my friend Hermione's help, and I found a lot of stuff about your founding, with a man named Chikamatsu and a One-Tailed demon called Shukaku. It also said that whenever Shukaku got out of the kettle he was sealed in, the Puppeteers would fight and re-seal him.**_

 _ **I sort of know what that feels like; a basilisk(a giant snake with eyes that kill when you make eye contact and deadly poison) that was about 80foot long was let loose into my school and I managed to kill it. I nearly died. I don't want you to die because you had to fight a giant monster with an entire desert under it's control. If it's your own choice, then I know that you probably don't appreciate me pressuring you like this, I know I wouldn't. If it's not your choice, then I think it's stupid.**_

 _ **I'm probably coming across as some sort of overbearing mother hen, aren't I? I just can't bear to think about you, Gaara or Temari getting killed or seriously injured. If I'm missing something here, please write back.**_

 _ **Harry.'**_

* * *

Gaara looked up at Kankuro. "I'll write to tell him we're coming and that we'll tell him a few things when we get there. I'll put a tracker seal in with the letter. Write to the Outer Gate station in the land of Iron to expect two travellers; you're coming as well, Kankuro. Baki's up and about and perfectly capable to take up his interim duties while we're gone."

Kankuro nodded. "The Puppeteers can manage without me for a while. I'll take Crow though, just in case." He stood up and unhooked the wooden figure from down off of the wall and quickly swathed it in bandages with a speed born from years of practice.

"You really think we can expect trouble?"

"Hey, shinobi paranoia, remember?" Kankuro replied, slinging the package onto his back and shifting it slightly to settle it into a more comfortable position. Just him and Crow. Reminded him of his genin days. "And before you ask Gaara, I'm not sealing him in a scroll. Scrolls might be easier to carry, but if I need to swap places with Crow, it's going to be slow and difficult."

Gaara raised a non-existent eyebrow. "Him? And you Puppeteers wonder why all the other shinobi think you're all crazy. You spend far too much time with inanimate objects." Kankuro shrugged.

"There's crazies in every village. They have much the same attitude about the Aburame over in Konoha. Besides, we could be worse." He sent a meaningful glance over to his brother. Gaara returned the look, but when he found no accusation in Kankuro's eyes, the tension eased from his shoulders. "You're right Kankuro. I'll give Temari her letter now and update her on everything. If you could arrange things with the Corps and write to the Land of Iron Outer Gate while I find an interim and placate the council: I'll add my official seal when you're done."

Kankuro suddenly looked thoughtful. "I've never been to the Outer World. Do you think once we've met Harry we can look around?"

"I suppose it depends on how this goes; you're paying out of your own wages for everything you buy, though."

* * *

 _ **'Dear Temari,**_

 _ **I've never really had a mother figure before, so this is all quite new to me. You've probably talked to Gaara about me going to a school for magic. It's not really that different from normal school. The school is an old castle, with moving staircases and moving pictures. The staircases are confusing, the portraits will sometimes help you out if they're in a good mood. There are four Houses where you are sorted based on your personality. Slytherin is for the cunning and ambitious, Hufflepuff for the loyal, Ravenclaw for the smart and Gryffindor for the brave. I'm in Gryffindor.**_

 _ **The teachers are all quite nice, apart from Professor Snape, who hates me in particular for some reason and is always biased towards his own House, Slytherin. Professor Binns is our History of Magic teacher, but he just covers the same topics over and over again. He never notices that everyone uses his lessons as extra sleeping time.**_

 _ **My grades are alright, but my friend Hermione keeps telling me that I should work harder. She's probably right. But it's easy for her to say! She knows everything and always has top grades, then she expects everyone else to do the same. Lots of people say she should have been sorted into Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor. She's a little bit bossy, but very nice.**_

 _ **Ron is my best mate, he and his family have looked out for me ever since I started school. He's not exactly the brightest, but he's really good at chess and always sticks by me even when things go wrong.**_

 _ **Do you think you could write back and tell me about you and where you live? I couldn't find out that much about where you live, so it would be nice to know what it's like over there. Also, Kankuro says you have a boyfriend. What's he like? What's his village, the Village Hidden in the Leaves, like?**_

 _ **Write back,**_

 _ **Harry.'**_

* * *

Temari sighed as she refolded her letter. Gaara had explained about going away for a while, and his reasons for his unexpected departure; he had shown her Kankuro's letter. She knew that Gaara had been planning to broach the whole 'I used to be a homicidal psychopathic murderer with insomnia, mainly caused by a crazy demon living inside my head' issue when they had all gotten to know Harry a little bit better. But that part of the plan had been shot to Hell, so they were going over there to sort things out.

Her thoughts were disturbed by the amusing sight of a zombie-like Shikamaru slouching down the stairs.

"Morning!" She said loudly, making sure to sound extra enthusiastic; just to annoy him. He mumbled something unintelligible, while making a wobbly bee-line for the kettle. Very few Nara got out of bed before ten in the morning and if they were night owls, well, woe betide anyone who got between them and a bed when they finally called it a day.

While Shikamaru dosed himself with instant coffee while slumped over the table, she started writing her reply to Harry's letter.

"What're you writing?" She nearly jumped out of her seat; she hadn't thought Shikamaru would be that coherent yet, he was only halfway through his first cup of coffee. She quickly shifted her elbow to cover her incomplete letter. "Nothing, Shika, just a friend."

He fixed her with a hooded gaze, the dregs of sleep in his eyes making it look more dispassionate and sarcastic than she had ever seen him make it try to look. "Uh huh. Look, Temari, I can tell you look forward to these letters, it's sort of obvious. But you don't answer me when I ask you who they're from, like you're scared I'll find out who it is.

Is there...someone else?"

As Temari was stunned into inaction by the insinuation from out of the blue, Shikamaru took it as confirmation of his suspicion. "I'm not trying to say that I'm angry, if you want to move on that's fine, you don't have to tell me who it is...'" He was cut off by Temari's fist to the right side of his face.

"Baka! Who said I was seeing anyone else? I was telling the truth when I said it was a friend, I just can't tell you who he is."

Shikamaru's eyes lit up even as he rubbed at his aching jaw. "So that's it?"

Temari leaned over and kissed him quickly on the lips. "Yes, you baka," she said softly as she pulled away. "Honestly, you're a Nara genius, but when it comes to girls you're completely hopeless."

"Troublesome woman. You spilt my coffee."

"Love you too."

* * *

 _ **'Dear Harry,**_

 _ **Even as this letter reaches you, Kankuro and I are en route to you. There were some things in your last letter we both think would be easier to explain in person, as well as to do that blood test. Enclosed is a tracking seal. If you keep it on you, we will be able to find your location while in the unfamiliar environment of your world. We are expecting to arrive a few hours to just over half a day after the hawk does. I haven't changed much appearance-wise since that photo I sent you was taken, so you should know who to look out for.**_

 _ **Hope to see you soon,**_

 _ **Gaara.'**_

* * *

AN: Moving on then, with a bit of ShikaTem fluff thrown in. The entire fic will not be all letters, but letters will be exchanged and be part of the fic. Oh, and Naruto will probably find out about Harry as well, as will some of the remaining Rookie 9. The goblins will have some input as well, now that their precious gold is involved. And shinobi in general may have something to say about the stagnation of the Wizarding World.

I would also like to advertise the fic 'Mouse of Konoha' which is listed in my favourites. Read if you like young Naruto getting a helping hand on becoming a shinobi, earning the respect of Konoha's clans, accidentally infiltrating another village, sort-of blackmailing Anko into being his sensei and pranking the whole of Konoha. Thoroughly recommended.


	5. The Bank

Harry shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as he waited in the park just around the corner from the Dursley house. Gaara and Kankuro were coming any minute now! But there was still a ball of fear in his stomach, as Aunt Marge was coming around that evening. Uncle Vernon had promised Harry he would sign his Hogsmeade slip if Harry pretended he was normal the whole weekend and disappeared for the whole day. He just hoped he didn't slip up somehow.

"Harry?" The voice was dry and soft, but with a definite undercurrent of power and authority. Harry turned, and saw a slim young man with blood-red hair and a red tattoo on his forehead raise his hand in greeting. "Gaara?"

Gaara smiled. "So it is you. To tell you the truth, I'd thought you'd be a bit taller."He was almost immediately tackled by an enthusiastic Harry, who was hugging him just as hard as Naruto did, and an instinctual bit of chakra application kept him from being knocked back a pace.

"Don't I get a hug as well?" Kankuro stepped out of the bushes, having dispelled the genjutsu that had kept him from sight while he checked the area for potential ambush and other traps. Harry just looked at him blankly. Gaara chuckled.

"Kankuro's under an illusion Harry, since his Puppeteer uniform and the equipment he carries would draw too much attention." The last word had barely left his mouth before Harry had released him and hugged Kankuro in much a similar manner. Kankuro ruffled his hair, "nice to finally meet you squirt."

Gaara coughed to get their attention. "While I agree that it is nice to meet each other in person for the first time, maybe we should take care of business first before relaxing."

* * *

Kankuro looked the Leaky Cauldron up and down with a speculative expression. "Conditional genjutsu. Impressive. Other than that, the actual building could use some repair." Harry stared.

"You can see the wards? Is that even possible? That's so cool!" Kankuro waved off the compliment. "I'm just sensing the illusion's presence and because I fit it's requirements I can see through. But if wards are anything like seals, that may explain how they're keeping up the illusion indefinitely."

"If you're quite finished, Kankuro, we have an appointment to keep," Gaara called. "Harry, don't we need you to let us through some sort of barrier?" Harry, suddenly remembering why they were there, dashed ahead of them, "it's just round here...'"

With a few quick handseals, Gaara erected a basic privacy barrier around himself and Kankuro. "First impressions?"

Kankuro unconsciously straightened up. This was not Gaara for the moment, this was the Fifth Kazekage. "Nervousness expected. Seems overly eager to form attachments, yet a certain amount of suspicion. Small frame could be a result of genetics but possibly the result of malnutrition. Glasses damaged, ill-fitting and messily repaired; lack of proper treatment for unknown condition. Absence of any adults upon meeting and several nervous tics reveal anxiety over something he wants kept quiet."

Gaara nodded and dispelled the technique, before both men followed around the side of the building after Harry. Something about this whole situation stank, and they meant to get to the bottom of it.

* * *

Harry felt tempted to skip, he was so happy. A silent weight, the weight on his heart of being an unloved orphan, had lifted slightly and he almost felt like he could fly without a broom.

Gaara and Kankuro were like the heroic big brothers his classmates in primary school had fantasised about, him included. Strong, kind, authoritative and clever. He had always wished that he had had someone like that to come and whisk him away from the Dursleys, and now, he did!

Once they were halfway to Gringotts did his steps slow. The people all around were staring and whispering. Who were these two men following the great Harry Potter around? Where were they from? Were they friends with Harry Potter? Why was the red-head wearing eye-liner?

Self-consciously, he ducked his head shuffled his feet, trying not attract attention. When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked up and met Gaara's cool green eyes. "You have as much right to be here as anyone else, Harry. Stand tall."

Harry nodded and swallowed. Holding his head a little higher, he stepped through the door to Gringotts, Gaara and Kankuro close behind.

"Huh."

Kankuro's voice and the sound of metal blades being drawn made Harry spin around.

The moment Kankuro had stepped through the door, his genjutsu had been forcibly dispelled. Now a man in a baggy black suit, a black cat-eared hood and zig-zag purple lines on his face stood with his arms folded and a large bandaged bundle topped with brown hair slung over his back. Goblin guards encircled him, spears pointed.

The other wizards in the bank had caught sight of the commotion and even now were gathering and muttering to each other. Harry looked from Gaara to Kankuro with worry and confusion in his eyes. What was going on?

"Why has one of _your_ kind entered these halls?" One of the goblin guards growled. The bystanders immediately started whispering. Was this man some type of creature? Werewolf? Veela?

"He's with me," Gaara said quite calmly, walking up to the guard who had spoken. "It's quite alright, he's not going to cause any trouble."

The guard spun around, spear levelled at Gaara's chest. "Another one of you!?" Harry started forward with a small cry. "Wait! Don't hurt them, please!"

"What is going on here?" All eyes turned. Striding towards them was a goblin of average size, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit and flanked by two guards of his own. "Somebody organised the customers, we're not making any profit just standing around! Guard, what on earth is going on?"

Another guard put up his spear and bowed. "Manager Ragnok. Honoured sir, this man was using chakra to create an illusion which our wards on the main door forcibly dispelled. We detained him, but this one," he gestured to Gaara, who was still staring calmly down at the guard holding a spear to his heart, "came forward and announced himself as being allied with the first man."

Ragnok scoured the two men with a glare that would have curdled milk at ten paces. "What are your reasons for being here? Chakra-born have not set foot in this establishment throughout it's entire history. Why have you come here now?"

Gaara merely quirked a non-existant eyebrow, unfazed by the goblin's attitude. "Why else would we be here? We do have an appointment; which I do believe we are running late for due to this little fiasco."

* * *

Ragnok scowled down at the three of them from where he sat from behind his imposing desk. "And you claim to be related to Young Master Potter here through blood? A chakra-born? Master Potter seems to be wise in coming to us for confirmation."

"Exactly what I said," Kankuro said, even as Harry scuffed his trainers against the floor in embarrassment. "It's sensible, considering that correspondence can be faked."

Ragnok snorted. "Hmph. And why, pray tell, were you using an illusion? Your applying chakra to maintain it was what set the wards off."

It was Kankuro's turn to snort. "My uniform is unusual, as you can see. That illusion was just to stop it drawing attention while walking through non-magical areas. Once we got to Diagon Alley, I didn't see any need to remove it." Ragnok just stared.

"Could you not just change your clothes?"

"Kankuro is currently on duty as my bodyguard and therefore is required to be in uniform. Although, he could get away with it if he didn't want to," Gaara interjected.

Kankuro rolled his eyes. "Like you need a bodyguard. I'm just along for the ride, and wearing the uniform is just professionalism."

"If you are not required for this appointment," Ragnok started, a hint of smugness in his voice, "I must ask you to leave until business is concluded. Confidentiality, you understand." However, Kankuro just sat there, unmoving.

"If you would like to _leave please,_ " Ragnok insisted again. Kankuro looked blankly at him. "I'm a soldier. You're not my superior, _he_ is," he said, a nod of the head indicating Gaara. "I obey his orders. And so far, he hasn't told me I can leave, has he?"

"Kankuro, you are free to leave us. Please wait outside until we're finished here and don't cause any trouble," Gaara ordered quietly, not missing a beat. Kankuro smirked as he stood to attention and bowed. "Wakatta, Kazekage-sama." Ragnok was visibly grinding his teeth as Kankuro left the room.

* * *

The face Ragnok made when he picked up and read the test results looked like someone had poured a gallon of lemon juice down his throat. "Congratulations," he spat out. "There's a match. You are related through the bloodline of Lily Potter."

The response was a delighted gasp from Harry and "I guess that makes it official," from Gaara. Harry hugged Gaara tightly. "I have a brother," he whispered to himself. Gaara returned the gesture. "Yeah," he said quietly.

A sharp cough interrupted them.

"I believe we also have the matter of your estate, account and other properties and assets to go over Young Master Potter. If your half-brother would like to leave the room?" Ragnok announced, back to business mode.

Harry glanced back and forth, a thought suddenly coming into his head. "Shouldn't Gaara stay? I mean, if he's related to me, shouldn't he be getting some of my stuff?"

"No, Harry," Gaara interjected, holding his hand up to forestall anything from Ragnok. "I appreciate it, but I don't need it. It's kind of you, but I don't want to give people a reason to think that I turned up to get my share of your inheritance. The blood test was all I can here for. That, and to talk to you face to face, anyway."

"Do you think you could stay anyway?" Harry whispered. "I don't know anything about organising a bank account."

* * *

Quick fingers darted back and forth across the surface of the wood, with the odd pause here and there as the man picked up or switched the odd instruments he held. It was fascinating how he manipulated the joints with the precision of a rune engraver.

"Hey, kid."

Blaise was broken out of his reverie by the man's voice, then did a double take as he realised the man was talking to and looking at him at the same time as he was crafting...whatever it was.

"Don't y'know it's rude to stare without introducing yourself?"

Blaise was caught off guard. Indeed, it was bad manners. He was setting a bad example as a pure blood.

"Apologies, my name is Blaise Zabini. I was just admiring your obvious skill at crafting, even if it's not what you would usually find someone doing in Gringotts."

The man just waved off the compliment. "Name's Kankuro. And it's not really skill, I've just been making these little things since I was six and now I can do it without looking. I just give them away to all the kids at home, we just end up making so many. We should probably think about exporting them, to be honest. You better run along now, though. Your parents are probably worried."

Kankuro saw the slight nervous flicker in Blaise's eyes and promptly corrected himself. "Eh, sorry about that. Shouldn't have assumed."

Blaise shrugged. "It's fine. Never really knew my father and mother leaves me to myself. But I have to ask, why are you crafting something in a corner of Gringotts?"

It was Kankuro's turn to shrug. "Bored. My brother's chatting with a goblin about a blood test and since I'm not relevant to the proceedings, I was told to wait out here."

"Did you discover you have an old disused vault from one of your ancestors or something? You wouldn't be the first muggleborns to inherit a vault like that."

"Something like that. We found out we're related to someone and the goblins wanted to check the relation before they even think about organizing the money."

Blaise winced. That could happen too, especially when some family head got a roving eye and the child turned up out of the blue; throwing the line of inheritance out of whack. He decided to change the subject. But before he could open his mouth, he was interrupted.

"Kugutsu: Nisehada."

Kankuro had opened a small drawstring pouch, then moved his fingers in strange complex patterns. With the uttering of that strange phrase, particles of soil flowed from the bag onto the wooden creation. There was a final shimmer, and Blaise found himself looking at a 10-inch snake, striped black and cream with glossy scales. Kankuro held it up for him to see. "See? Finished. And if I do this...'" He twitched his fingers and Blaise took a step back as the snake twitched too. With a few deft flexes of Kankuro's hand, the snake lifted it's head and slithered up Kankuro's other arm.

"H-how?" Blaise stammered. Wandless magic? It wasn't transfiguration, but it was so life-like!

"I may not be able to use a wand, kid," Kankuro said, pinning him with a sharp gaze. "But that doesn't mean I'm useless. There's a reason why back home they call me Puppet Master."

The conversation was interrupted by the presence of a goblin guard, who was suddenly looming over the two of them with spear in hand and a disapproving snarl that showed pointed teeth. "No chakra usage permitted," the guard ground out. Kankuro sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Of course it isn't. Fine."

The snake went limp. He reached one hand back and plucked it off of his shoulder. "Is my brother finished then?" He asked the goblin coolly.

"Not yet." The guard's face flickered into a smirk. "You truly are a talented man, Puppet Master. You make history and anger the Malfoy family all in one afternoon. I would hate to meet you on the field of battle."

"Wait," Blaise said in confusion. "You hacked off the _Malfoys?_ Are you crazy!? Don't you know who they are?"

Kankuro stifled a short laugh. "Well, they did insist on telling me like I was supposed to grovel at their feet, but frankly, they weren't that impressive..."

* * *

 _Flashback_

Kankuro sighed as he sat down on an out-of-the-way bench, removing Crow from his back and stowing him underneath it. Why was he worrying? Gaara had sand sealed on him and was still deadly without it; Kankuro didn't need to be there. He was just too used to being at his baby brother's side. When he was younger, he would have done anything to get out from Gaara's presence, now he didn't feel right without it.

He leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. Bored. He mentally started running through simulations for some his newer puppet designs.

He wanted to get in another folding dagger with a poison chamber into the miniature design, but there wouldn't be enough room if he wanted the puppet to come apart. Maybe there was a way to use senbon? No, he'd have to adjust the firing springs. Screw that, he'd have to change the entire mechanism. He'd have to custom make it, there weren't any senbon launchers that size in the storeroom. Oh, he'd have to check if they had any 0.5mm diametre tubing left for the poison valve. Some of the 1.5mm as well, he was pretty sure the tubing in one or two of the practice battle puppets had ruptured. He'd have to tell Fumiaki to schedule a general check up of the practice puppets. Or maybe he should tell Hokichi to assign checking them over as detentions for the apprentices themselves. Going back over basic dis-assembly and part replacement should drive the lesson home. But then Jotaro would need to re-assign...'

"Are you listening to me?"

He opened one eye. One middle-aged male, platinum blonde hair worn long like a Hyuuga. Holding a walking cane, but seems to have no use for it. Fur-lined haori-robe-thing. Strong sense of self-superiority. Carrying himself like some sort of noble. Young boy, early teens. Same hair colour but worn short and slicked back. Close relative?

Oh well. Better start this off polite. "No, wasn't listening. Sorry, were you saying something?"

The older blonde sneered at him. "I was just saying how disgusting it is that lesser beings are permitted to do business in Gringotts alongside respectable, civilised wizarding folk."

Nod. Just smile and nod. Don't blow your top, Kankuro, don't react. He just wants you to react so he has an excuse to have you thrown out. "I don't know what lesser beings you're referring to, but I think it's down to the Goblins who they do and don't let in."

Another sneer, calculating this time. Really, it's kind of fascinating how you can convey entire sentences with just subtle facial movements. This sentence is along the lines of 'okay, not what I was expecting, but I'm definitely superior beyond question to this thing.'

"I see. Then you must be a very dangerous and unusual wizard. Certainly not the sort of _person,"_ there's the scathing, head-to-toe scan of the eyes, neither of the two blondes looking particularly welcoming to say the least, "we would want around children and decent people."

Yeah, one of the uniform's drawbacks. You look really, really weird. Not just weird as in unusual, but sometimes as in sexuality/preferences differ from the norm sort of weird. Luckily a Puppeteer's reputation is enough for some respect to balance it out, but, then again, these guys don't know what I am, do they? Oh well, it'll be hilarious when I say I'm not a wizard.

"Sorry to prove you wrong again, but I'm no wizard. And I'm just as human as you are." Mental breakdown in 3...2...1...

"You're a _Muggle?!"_ Oh look, all of the other customers are looking again. I should probably keep my mouth shut and not stoke the fire...Nah; too much fun.

"Well, I can't do magic as such and I can't use a wand thingy, so if that's what Muggle means, then yeah, I am." His face is going an interesting shade of red now and he's clutching that cane of his. Nice workmanship actually. Guy must be loaded if those gems are real. Too late to stop now though. "I should keep it down if I were you, people are starting to stare. Oh, and you never introduced yourself. I'm Kankuro."

"My name is Lucius Malfoy. Though I doubt that would mean anything to an ignorant Muggle." Aww, that was nearly a proper insult, how cute. But my Give-A-Damn doesn't register wannabe threats from non-shinobi. Riling this guy up is just too funny.

"You're right, it doesn't. Mind you, I don't take much notice of strangers like you unless they threaten the ones I hold dear, or they're a criminal with a rank of A or above. And I would place you at about...C-rank."

"How dare you!" Mini-blonde's started talking now. "How dare you show such disrespect to my father by insinuating he is inferior to a Muggle like yourself! Everyone knows that Muggles are useless!"

Haha. If I didn't know better, I'd have to agree with him. I used to think something similar; that if you didn't have ninjutsu or genjutsu, you couldn't be a ninja. Rock Lee proved a lot of people wrong.

"Useless, huh? Just like that cane of yours?" A quick pull of a chakra string and his cane's in my hand. "I mean, you could club someone over the head with it, but it would probably break on the second hit if not the first. Oh, you seem to have something loose inside. I see; the handle unscrews, very clever." It is actually, a lot of things can be hidden like this. Umbrellas with senbon loosely sewn into the struts, a wakizashi or tanto inside the handle, painted senbon masquerading as kanzashi hair pins, wire sewn into the seams in clothing...I heard of one guy who had a blade the size of his pinkie finger, in a sheath, implanted just under the skin on the back of his wrist. When he was captured, he bit open his arm and used it to kill the guards.

"Give that back!" I let him snatch it back, by the way. I have all the weapons I need, and it's a little too public to start a fight. They both seem to be turning an interesting shade of purple.

"How dare you!" Uh-oh, I think I crossed a line here. Time to bail.

"Well, it's been fun, really! But I think I'll be going." Quick shunshin to the other side of the hall and a henge. They both storm round, yell at the goblins for a bit, then leave.

 _Flashback End_

* * *

Blaise was rather pale.

"You-you absolute _fool!"_ He spluttered. "The Malfoys are one of the most politically powerful people around! You're dead meat! If they don't manage to kill you, they'll ruin you and your family for the next seven generations, no matter how much gold you have!"

"Kid, you don't know anything about me, so it would be polite not to underestimate what exactly my family, my friends, my comrades, my people and I, are capable of." Kankuro was serious now. Blaise backed up slightly.

"Woah! I apologize, but I still think you shouldn't have done that. Aside from being rich, the Malfoys have really good connections high up in the Ministry. You just made life hard for yourself."

"Puppet Master," said the goblin guard. "Your brother has just left his appointment." Kankuro turned, and Blaise did too.

The man was of average height, with hair the colour of dried blood and a strange red marking on his temple. As he drew closer, Blaise could see dark birthmarks around his eyes, which were slate green. Kankuro stood.

"Blaise Zabini, may I introduce Lord Gaara no Sabaku, Fifth Kazekage of Sunagakure no Sato. Gaara, may I introduce, Blaise Zabini." The green eyes slid to land on Blaise, who swallowed nervously, then bowed.

"Thank you, Kankuro. It is good to meet you too, Zabini. I see you have already met my bodyguard; my elder brother, the current Puppet Master, Head of the Puppeteer Corps."

"Zabini?" Chimed another voice. Blaise started. "Potter? What are you doing here?"

Kankuro turned to Gaara."It's confirmed then?" Gaara nodded. "Yes. The test came back positive."

Kankuro then proceeded to clear his throat. "Zabini, may I introduce Harry Potter, Gaara's brother through the maternal line."

* * *

 ***Twiddles thumbs nervously* Personally, I think this chapter feels, for want of a better word, stilted. I'm just not that good at writing feelings. There will be more brotherly/family fluff next chapter, though.**

 **I really enjoyed writing Kankuro, probably because he says all the stuff I've always wanted to say to the HP characters. And yes, Blaise Zabini has been promoted from a background character to...something.**

 **Gaara's essentially the dictator(not in the cruel, oppressive, sense, but by definition) of a micro-nation, since the Hidden Villages are recognized by their respective countries as a separate power. Kankuro's sort of Suna royalty, as it were, hence why he's not too worried about the Malfoys.**

 **Over 4,000 words this chapter! Good grief! Longest single chapter I've ever written on FF.**

 **As of posting, this fic has:**

 **47 reviews**

 **222 favourites**

 **343 followers**

 **has been viewed 10,126 times**

 **and has joined 6 communities.**

 **I was not expecting this from a 'what the hell, might as well' one-shot.**

 **Thank you to all of you guys(and girls(and everybody else in between)), I could not have done this without your support, mainly through reviews. More reviews!**


	6. The Family

Ragnok, Manager of Gringotts Bank, was not so old and so confident as to dismiss the old stories he had heard at his parent's knees while an infant.

 _"Those people were blessed by the Moon Princess, Rag," he said. "What those wizards call powerful battle spells that need a trained wizard to perform, their children your age can do just by moving their fingers. The wizards tried to study them and treat them like they do us, but they tore up their precious treatises and laughed as they sent them back to This Side weighing a few arms and legs less than they did before."_

 _A sharp-toothed, Cheshire grin revealed that Ragnok's father agreed with that state of events wholeheartedly._

 _"But remember this, Rag; they're mercenaries. They'll kill and steal for money, they don't really care about Dark or Light, just whether you're on their side or not. And remember that even a Chakra-born can make mistakes or die, they are not gods."_

This was the first time Ragnok had seen a Chakra-born, a shinobi. Two of them, both of apparently important standing and now they were mixed up with the Saviour of the Wizarding World. Typical.

At first, he had been confused and suspicious. Chakra-born were used as spies and thieves. Were they trying to steal from the bank? Were they after the Potter account?

Then, there was a deep unease. They both walked with a fighter's gait, loose and coiled muscle as if preparing to pounce, eyes constantly assessing everything and everyone around them. But while the Puppet Master could be compared to a mongoose, watching and waiting for a weak point and so very, very fast, the red-head was a nundu; confident in his abilities, with strength and power beyond the comprehension of mere humans.

There was a grudging respect as well. The Chakra-born did not look at him or his fellow goblins like wizards did, as lesser beings to be ignored at best and belittled at worst. Despite the Puppet Master's attitude, the red-head had some honour; to refuse himself access's to the Potter accounts. It had been that which reassured Ragnok that they were truly there with no greedy intent.

Ragnok had also been quietly seething. Master Potter had had no education whatsoever in managing money, which he should've had as the Heir to a House. Then there was the clincher. Potter didn't know that he even was the Heir to a House. Potter should have been receiving bank statements since he was eleven, but had apparently had none!

Maybe it was time to do some 'house cleaning'.

* * *

Suna shinobi would tell you that you did not piss off the Fifth Kazekage. Well, pissing off any Kage was a significantly bad idea. But what made their Kazekage different, was that he was a master of psychological warfare.

Oh, you wouldn't think it to look at him. He did, after all, read stories to orphaned children, let his big sister nag him for working too late and snacked during council meetings. But a shinobi looks underneath the underneath. Where do you think that skill for public speaking came from? Then of course, you realize that with his renowned childhood psychosis, he knows the ins and outs of the human mind. He knows what buttons to press.

Not in the same way as Ibiki Morino, oh no. That guy plays you so you blab because you don't know what else to do. Gaara just terrifies you. He's perfected killing intent to an _art._ Not to mention, he uses his reputation of former instability as... _inspiration..._ for some of his acts.

Yes, Suna shinobi may love their Kazekage, but they fear him as well.

At the moment, Gaara was employing those exact skills; those of observing people in order to find their triggers; to examine his brother, Harry. He was quickly coming to a conclusion, and it was not a happy one.

Harry felt pressured by something and was constantly on guard. Also, certain things in his letters, along with his appearance, indicated a childhood of abuse by isolationism. And the remark about that snake, the basilisk, had him even more concerned. It was quite obvious that Harry had had no physical training whatsoever, yet he killed such a creature? Only Chunin-level ninja took on the giant snakes in Konoha's Forest of Death, and those didn't have a one-hit-kill doujutsu. Surely the teachers at this school were more capable than a twelve-year-old with no training?

This was painting a very disturbing picture.

And he would have answers.

* * *

Blaise Zabini bowed when Kankuro, no, Master Kankuro introduced him to this Gaara. Something about the way the two of them walked reminded him of a predator, and Lord Gaara was obviously in charge. He didn't know what a Kazekage was, but Kankuro had said it with the sort of awe that people introduce Dumbledore with.

Startled was something of an understatement when it was revealed that Lord Gaara and Potter were brothers. Through the maternal line? So that must mean that Potter's mother must have...well, his own mother was a Black Widow, so he wasn't going to judge. Come to think of it, didn't people say that Lily Potter had red hair and green eyes? Well, there certainly was some sort of resemblance.

"Zabini?" Potter squawked. "What're you doing here?"

Ah. Awkward. When in doubt, sarcasm.

"I was under the impression, Potter, that I was allowed to come into a bank. I've been here for ten minutes, yet I haven't been arrested yet."

Kankuro chuckled. "Liking the sarcasm, Zabini. Do you two know each other?"

The two looked at each other. "Reputation only," Blaise said, at the same time as Harry said "more or less."

* * *

"Just to recap," said Gaara, eyes implacable. "This Slytherin House has a majority of children from Noble families, which makes them feel superior to others. Due to this, as well as the fact that a renowned genocidal murderer and his followers were in that house, there's a massive amount of prejudice and stereotyping about Slytherins, who don't actively deny it. Since the aforementioned murderer's opposition, Dumbledore, was from the House of Gryffindor, the rivalry is most noticeable between those two houses. Did I get everything, Kankuro?" He said, turning to the henged-once-more shinobi beside him.

"Sounded like it," he said, licking his spoon. "You should try the lemon-and-ginger flavoured ice cream Gaara, it's really good. And it's not like it's easy to get ice cream in Sand anyway."

"The man had never heard of green tea ice cream," Gaara mumbled darkly. "Barbaric."

Blaise coughed politely. "Ah, excuse me, but I confess that I have never heard of your homeland; I wish to correct this state of affairs."  
"Shut it, Zabini," Harry spat. "Gaara won't tell you anything!"

 _"Silence,"_ Gaara hissed. "You do not run my life and you do not tell me what to do. You have let your prejudice blind you. You are also making a scene. So _sit."_

Harry sat, fists trembling.

Blaise was both slightly awed and gratified. Awed because never before had he seen anyone so close to Potter discipline him like that. Hell, McGonagall had given him a broom and a spot on the Quidditch team for breaking the rules, instead of a detention. Gratified, because somebody was actually siding with a Slytherin against the Boy-Who-Lived.

"There are five great Villages where I come from Zabini," Gaara began, eyes back to Blaise now. "These Villages actually being large semi-military complexes the sizes of small cities. The military of each is made up of shinobi, who are basically wizards who devote all of their power to battle techniques. Each of these Villages are separate from their host country's government, their autonomy unopposed because they are the 'go-to' government-sanctioned mercenaries for any dirty work. Each Village is named after the geography of it's country. My Village, for example, is called Village Hidden in the Sand, since most of the Land of Wind is desert. The name would be shortened to Hidden Sand or Sand. The heat and unfavourable and unpredictable travel conditions unfortunately mean that some foodstuffs are rarely obtainable and hideously priced. Like ice-cream. Both Kankuro and I hold high ranks within our Village, which is where I am going to stop. It is payment enough for the political overview you gave me just now."

Blaise nodded in acquiescence. It was fair.

Gaara snapped open one of the pockets on the breast of his coat and took out a watch. "Ah, forgive us, we must go. Things to do, appointments to keep, people to talk too...'" A cream-and-black striped snake slithered across the table and paused in front of Blaise before falling still.  
"A gift," Kankuro said. "A reminder of this conversation, a token, call it what you will. Keep an eye out."

There was a blur, a swirl of sand and a swish of air, and Blaise was alone at the table outside Fortescue's, the puppet snake motionless in front of him.

* * *

"What are you going to tell them?"

The quiet question broke Harry out of his...well, his brooding. The three of them were sitting on the untrodden banks of a stream shaded thickly by trees and in between two crop fields. A motorway roared not far away, where the stream flowed under it. Somewhere between London and Surrey. Practically the middle of nowhere.

Kankuro leaned against the trunk of a tree at the top of the bank, bandaged bundle in the wild, uncut grass next to him and painted, hooded face undisguised. Gaara was seated by the water's edge, studying the flowing water with absent-minded intensity before asking that question. Harry, sitting a little way aways from both brothers and studiously avoiding looking at both, was caught off guard.

"What do you mean, tell? And who?"

Gaara plucked a blade of grass and rolled it between his fingers. "About us being related. Your friends, your family, your school, the general public. Keeping it a complete secret is out of the option; a lot of people saw us together at the bank and you are famous. There's probably scandalous rumours going around right now, I'd imagine."

Harry shifted slightly. "Oh. I...I haven't thought about it yet. And how did you know I was famous? I never mentioned it in any of my letters."

"The staring and whispering kind of gave it away," Kankuro chipped in. "The tone of it made it sound like you were some sort of reclusive miracle-worker. This anything to do with that giant snake with the killing eyes you wrote about?" Harry flinched, unconsciously making to touch his forearm. Gaara grabbed his wrist and slid back the long sleeve of his T-shirt, making Harry jump in fright; he hadn't seen him move.

"I see."

Harry hadn't been expecting that reaction. A gasp, an oath, maybe even rage, yes. Somewhere deep inside, deep deep down had wanted a fuss, a hug, a promise; whatever an older brother was supposed to do. He had not expected - or wanted - Gaara to simply blink slowly, quickly and efficiently probe the scar tissue and flatly say just two words. It...hurt.

He snatched his arm back, pulling the sleeve down again. "Yeah, it bit me. But no, it's not because of that. Mum and Dad were murdered, but somehow I survived and killed the man at the same time. They call me The-Boy-Who-Lived." Gaara looksd away.

"I'm sorry. I was informed they had died, but not how." He looked back at Harry, who was hunched up where he sat, as if trying to make himself smaller. "Does it really bother you that I talked to Blaise Zabini? You were civil enough to each other outside the ice-cream shop."

Did it? Zabini was a Slytherin, but there hadn't been any snide comments like Malfoy was wont to do. Yes, there had been sarcasm, but not malicious or deprecatory. Everyone said that Slytherins were slimy sneaks; but, come to think of it, Harry hadn't actually _met_ any Slytherins outside of Draco and his two ever-present bookends. Maybe they were the exception rather than the rule, then. It would be nice if the rest of the Snakes were as neutral as Zabini. Sarcasm almost always went right over Ron and Hermione's heads, and they scolded him if it was particularly scathing without asking why he was in a bad mood.  
Gaara had talked to him, but it had seemed more like an exchange of information rather than a genuine friendly conversation. And...what he had said was true; Harry couldn't dictate his life. Was he really that selfish? He really was just a spoiled brat.

"No...no, I'm not bothered as such; I just don't actually talk to anyone outside of Hermione, Ron and his family, so it was weird for me to interact with Blaise at all," he said. "And...I'm sorry for trying to tell you what to do earlier. I only worked it out just now you were only being polite by swapping information."

"And I apologise for taking that tone of voice with you," Gaara said, unexpectedly. "I acted with you like you were one of my subordinates, which you aren't. I don't really know how to act, to be honest. I guess I'm not much of a brother."

"Don't say that, Gaara," Kankuro broke in, rising and walking down the bank to sit in between them both. "We may have been estranged, but you more than made up for it once you pulled yourself together. And to be fair, I wasn't much of a brother, either. I never even tried to understand what you were going through."

Harry let a small smile escape him. It was comforting to know that Gaara was just as confused as he was, also that it was normal for siblings to feel distant from each other at times. "It's okay," he said to them both. "I don't really know what to do either. I guess we can all just make it up as we go along."

"Make it up as we go along?" Gaara thought aloud, a smile on his own face as he met Harry's gaze. "I can go with that."

"Oh, what the hell," Kankuro sighed. "I guess with a family as weird and dysfunctional as this, I don't suppose any sort of plan would survive first contact. We improvise then, but we'll make this family work."

* * *

Blaise sat at the desk in his room, having finished the last of the essays assigned for the had been a shift in the power dynamic and he would have to be careful in making his next move.

In fact, he had been surprised in first year that Potter did not know of his heritage. Where on earth had he been if he didn't know a thing about his family? He suspected that it was because of this ignorance that Malfoy took such great pleasure in taunting the Boy-Who-Lived.  
But the tables had flipped again with the arrival of a new player; Lord Gaara. Not only was Potter the Heir to an Ancient and Noble House, but a member of a family of high-class battle mages. European battle mages had died out about three hundred years ago: partly because of the lack of need for them, partly because of waning in inherited magical power and mostly because of waning usefulness in the skills learnt (harnessing lava and thunderstorms was all well and good but if it was all you could do then in peace time you were as much use as a chocolate teapot). But their names and battles were still revered and recounted, particularly on mainland Europe. Blaise himself had grown up on such tales; his own ancestors had been some of the most feared and some select customs of the Zabini family back then were still followed today.  
The point was: Potter's political clout had been pretty much doubled.

With the support of an already powerful foreign warrior, combined with centuries of inherited prestige, Potter was set to climb to a high point on the food chain, blood purity be damned. To a Zabini, blood purity didn't matter as long as you had political, financial and magical power. And right now, it seemed as if Harry Potter was the new rising star to follow.  
He would have to gradually start cutting ties with Draco Malfoy. From what the goblins had said, the Malfoy family patriarch had dug his own grave when he tangled with Puppet Master Kankuro. Plus, if Draco continued to taunt Potter, he would be ostracised at best and suffer an injury at worst.

Besides, Blaise was a Slytherin. He saw no purpose in leaving Malfoy any way to latch onto Potter's coattails and ride to the top. Blaise would purposefully leave him in the dark and let his arrogance be his own undoing.

Potter may be newly aware of his status, but he was still woefully ignorant of Pureblood customs and etiquette, wasn't he? And customs would be different in Lord Gaara's homeland, so there would be little help from that quarter.  
But if someone were to help him with that, help Potter's star rise even faster, surely the Boy-Who-Lived would be exceedingly grateful. Gryffindors were second in loyalty only to Hufflepuffs, after all. Why, that person might be handsomely rewarded and have protection from both sides of the blood purity divide. Even Dumbledore couldn't argue with one student helping another out of the goodness of his heart.

Blaise looked at the carved wooden snake that now had pride of place on his writing desk, it's scales of polished dust shining in the lamplight. Be sharp, know your limits but always reach for the top, and know the right people. He would be Slytherin.

A smug smile creeping across his face, Blaise Matteo Artiglio Zabini, Heir to the Artiglio branch Family of the Zabini dynasty, reached for a fresh sheet of parchment, dipped his quill in the inkwell and began to mentally compose the start of a letter.

* * *

 **AN: GAAAAH! I'M SORRY! I KNOW I PROMISED FLUFF, BUT THE ANGST AXOLOTL CREPT UP ON ME!**

 **What would you call this chapter anyway? Fluffy angst or angsty fluff?  
So yes, this isn't one of those 'Harry gets a relative' stories where he immediately pours out his heart and soul and then is promptly given massive help from said relative, who asks nothing in return. Because, if we look back at the Naruto series, Gaara and Kankuro have absolutely no idea how to act like normal siblings, to each other or anybody else. And Harry's not really had any good experiences with his relatives, so he doesn't have a clue either. He's just finding out that his new family isn't perfect.**

 **And no, neither Gaara, Kankuro or Temari will be staying at Hogwarts. Why? They have to run a goddamn Village and tidy up after a World War. But Harry will be going to Suna.  
Somebody asked about what is happening with Shukaku. Well, this is canon Naruto, so Gaara is still a former/resurrected Jinchuuriki. Shukaku's hanging out in the desert at the moment, but I have big plans for him. *Cackles maniacally.***

 **Oh, and Blaise is plotting in his study. That should be fun. Heheheheheheh...'**

 **Gaara still wants answers, the goblins are going to shake things up a bit, Dumbledore's going to find out soon enough, ditto for Snape, and then we have to break the whole thing to Petunia Dursley. She is Gaara's biological aunt as well, after all.**

* * *

 **Some of you may have noticed that I now have a Plot Bunny collection story up and running. It only has one at the minute, but there are 6 more crowding my Doc manager. Go give it some love. Coming soon to it is:**

 **Blind Dogs Hunting Deer** **(Yoshino Nara-is-Fem!Harry)**

 **Non-Playable Character** **(Yagura, Zabuza and Haku Peggy-Sue)**

 **Jaws of Darkness Do Devour It** **(Dementor raised!Harry)**

 **To Make a Fool** **(Ibiki trains Naruto)**

 **Not Another Bloodline War!** **(Zabuza-is-Harry)**

 **But One Green Leaf** **(Timberwolf summoning!Tenzo and Naruto)**


	7. Interlude: The Siblings

**This is an interlude which is canon with Stairs of Sand storyline. It was actually meant to be funny all the way through, believe it or not, but it kept getting darker. Just so you know, Suna in 'Stairs of Sand' will not be as dark as the Post-Third-War, Economic-Depression Suna debuting here, mainly because in canon Suna did improve dramatically.  
Also, Baki is awesome. I mean; WIND SWORD! **

One thing that had baffled every non-Suna shinobi since the time of the Shodai Kazekage, was that all Suna-nin knew how to water walk as well as any Konoha-nin; despite living in a FREAKING DESERT!

Contrary to the popular theory carefully perpetuated by Suna-nin in the past, it is not because dune-walking teaches the same variation in chakra control as water-walking. Water-walking is completely different.

When walking on sand, the particles constantly shift, like water, but the pressure from feet will compact the grains into a relatively stable surface once you've sunk about two inches. But with water, you just keep sinking until you've hit the bottom. Therefore, two _completely_ different exercises are required. Water-walking requires a constant, variegated flow of chakra from the feet, but dune-walking requires small stilts or spikes of chakra from the feet.

Well, that method didn't stay secret very long once the Hyuuga, Uchiha and various other chakra-sensors showed up. But all those other shinobi still gnash their teeth over how Suna-nin get a hold of enough water to teach water-walking. Living in a desert should mean that water would be carefully, if not stingily, conserved for important things like drinking.

Well, each village has it's own claim to architectural fame, usually in relation to their Shodai Kages. Konoha used to be grassland until Hashirama Senju grew a giant forest(plus houses), Kiri was a stinking fetid swamp until their new Mizukage dried out enough ground to build on safely, you get the general picture. But what the Shodai Kazekage did is still a big secret. What he did was use his Doton jutsu and sensory capabilities in order to redirect and merge the entire water table in 50 square miles of the middle of the desert. Resulting in giant, natural, self-filling reservoirs for the village to tap into; allowing a permanent settlement to actually be built. Yeah, three cheers for Shodai-sama.

It's also rumoured that the fact he tampered with the local geography was what started enmity between Shukaku the Ichibi and the fledgling shinobi Village. Oh well.

So yes, Suna is still very conservative about water, but the reservoirs mean that they have a large enough body of water for things like the compulsory swimming and water-walking lessons. They do it in the natural caverns underground, which is where the water starts before it's filtered by seals into another reservoir. And yes, they are COMPULSORY. Before they were, because most Suna-nin have an understandable cautiousness around water and used to decline these lessons, they kept getting drowned out on missions.

If you're lucky, you get an instructor who will talk you in slowly, give you some fundamental pointers, haul you out if you do something wrong and then drill it into your skull until it's instinctive. Unfortunately, being lucky usually meant that you were either a really good student and therefore worth teaching, or you had a politically affluent or shinobi friend/relative willing to either teach you themselves or spend time bullying/blackmailing/pulling rank/bribing someone else to do so.

The unlucky ones were handed over to whichever shinobi had had a falling out with their commander, some of whom had no patience whatsoever. Basically, Pot Luck.

Hey, Konoha threatened you with cat-catching, Suna threatened you with playing swim teacher.

It was how Baki was pressed into being the sensei/bodyguard/handler for all three of the Yondaime Kazekage's children.

* * *

Temari had been a keen student, with one of the strongest wind affinities he had seen. He had said as much to her father after her third water-walking lesson. Rasa-sama then said that if that was the case, then she deserved to be taught by the best; 'You, Baki'.  
Yes, he was one of the best Fuuton-users Suna had; which was why he was needed on the front lines! He, the Kaze no Ken, would better serve his Village by killing it's enemies.

A week later, he was returned to the village with the left side of his face burned off by a Katon jutsu. As part of his light duties, he was assigned to instruct Temari in wind jutsu. The Third Shinobi War ended days later and he remained a sensei.

He later met Kankuro, with orders to provide swimming and water-walking lessons as well. Baki could see where this was going. Gaara, the new Ichibi Jinchuuriki was currently two, but was already noted for the automatic sand shield he possessed. Oh Fujin-Kami-sama, how was he going to teach _him_ how to swim? Would the sand even work in water?

While Temari stood out for her strong Fuuton nature and Gaara for obvious reasons, Kankuro had always been...average. Having been one of those to see Rasa without the hat and veil with some frequency, Baki could definitely say that Kankuro would grow up to be almost the spitting image of his father. But to those who didn't know quite what their Kazekage looked like, the boy was just average. But through regular interaction, Baki could ascertain that Kankuro was very mature for his age, rather introspective and because of that often felt concealed irritation over those younger than him.

Quietly, Baki feared for Kankuro. Suna was harsh, even more so since the economical collapse at the end of the war, and as such, any shinobi who didn't exceed expectations would be dealt with in less-than-ideal ways. Being the Kazekage's eldest son, expectations for Kankuro were higher than most; average just wouldn't cut it. Baki worried that if Kankuro didn't display some sort of marked ability soon, the council would suggest a breeding program to try and gain more shinobi with Jiton, like Rasa.

It was during the water-walking lessons that Kankuro found his calling; he had almost-perfect chakra control, and a big chakra pool as well!

Baki called in a favour from one of the Puppeteers he happened to know, who, after several tests, a lot of good-natured grumbling and the promise of a drink later, pronounced that Kankuro had the potential to become a Puppeteer _prodigy_ if he put his mind to it.

Baki thought it was the promise of escape from the mediocrity Kankuro had sculpted for himself that made the boy throw himself into the Puppet arts. Baki didn't see much of him after that as Kankuro began to join the Puppeteers in their compound. Surrounded by reserved, deadly shinobi, immersed in a fighting style based on deception and donning a uniform that made civilians dismiss him as 'odd' and 'creepy', Kankuro became more confidant, more scathing, harsher, quieter; and all the more deadly for it.  
Rasa and the council, wanting see exactly how far Kankuro had come, had Baki take him out on a mission. A C-rank 'cleansing' of a bandit camp on the border of the Land of Rivers. Kankuro's first kill.

With the Bunraku hood, black suit and Kabuki paint, Kankuro no longer resembled Rasa.

They stopped briefly for a rest and food, five miles from the bandits. Kankuro took the opportunity to check the systems of the puppet he carried and Baki took the opportunity to strike up conversation.  
"What's the name of your puppet?"

"Crow."  
Kankuro said it just as he removed the puppets head to wax the neck joint, letting Baki catch sight of the Red Scorpion Diamond hallmark. Baki swallowed dryly.  
"Why do you have the Akasuna's...I thought they had been destroyed?"

"No, just put in storage. Yachi-sama gave me Crow and told me to reverse engineer it instead of building my own puppet."

 _Ryuishi Yachi, Head of the Puppeteer Corps,_ Baki realised. A man who had never seen eye-to-eye with the Kazekage. Gifting Sasori's puppet to the son of Rasa would be sending a subtle message of defiance, but could be passed off as humoring a young prodigy and trying to reverse engineer the puppet's abilities to strengthen Suna's Puppeteer Corps and therefore the Village. A dangerous game, and Kankuro was caught in the middle.

An hour later, Baki would watch as Kankuro took out most of the bandits with poisoned senbon and poison bombs from a distance. The few men who'd had the presence of mind to shield their mouths and noses with their sleeves and rags of cloth were huddled in the middle of the camp, weapons drawn and spewing threats and obscenities in equal measure in their terror.

Then, Kankuro strode out from the forest, face creased with a boiling anger that Baki was surprised to see. As a Puppeteer, Kankuro didn't need to break cover. What could have enraged the boy so?

Crow was hovering over his shoulder, the foremost set of arms crossed loosely around Kankuro's neck and it's three eyes swiveling in their sockets, like some grotesque, spidery parody of a lover. Kankuro's hands were held open in front of him as he kept Crow aloft with chakra strings. Since the strings were invisible unless you concentrated, it made him look like he was begging for some sort of divine supplication.  
Factoring in the jagged patterns of the face-paint and the faint tendrils of the gradually disappearing poison smoke swirling around his ankles, it was positively eerie and demonic.

The bandits faltered and a few pissed themselves. Kankuro said only one word.

"Die."

Then Crow was among them, clicking and clattering, blades flying. Baki knews that Kankuro knews that those blades were coated with poison, but they flashed again and again, until Crow was up to it's elbows(?) in red. It took only three minutes.

Afterwards, Kankuro just knelt at the edge of the clearing, Crow slumped beside him. Baki retraced the boy's steps around the camp perimeter. He found the body of a teenage girl thrown carelessly under a shelf of rock. Sword wounds to the chest and abdomen. The bandit's work. Bruises from hands and fingernails on her hips and thighs as well as the torn, thin clothing painted an ugly picture, but not one he hadn't seen before. It was the thick blonde hair that gave him pause. Then he understood.

He buried the girl with a weak earth jutsu. Wind's more his specialty, but he could do earth; it was the first time he'd used it to bury someone though. He walked back to the ruined camp. Kankuro's hands trembled, but his face was as if carved from alabaster as he smeared his fingers in the blood on Crow's arms. Baki kept his mouth shut as Kankuro daubed the red onto his face; his eyelids and upper lip. It looked out of place next to the rich purple on his forehead and cheekbones.

As they left the forest and entered the scrubland, Baki stopped and waited for Kankuro, politely looking away as the boy dry-retched into a bush. He said nothing as he passed him the water bottle.

When they stopped for the night, then Baki spoke. "I found the girl you saw." Kankuro tensed. "I buried her." Kankuro said nothing, but his shoulders relaxed.  
"She resembled Temari, didn't she?" Baki continued. Kankuro could have been carved from granite with how still he was.

"Please don't tell them." Baki almost missed Kankuro's voice with how quiet it was. "Please don't tell them I lost control."

Baki didn't feel anything, which worried him, but he pushed it down and ignored it. "I won't. And I don't blame you, either."

When they got back to Suna, Baki gave the mission report. He said that Kankuro broke cover in order to aid his puppet in herding the men more efficiently, and Kankuro checked they were dead with Crow's blades. He wondered if his Kazekage knew he was lying by omission and he found himself resenting the hat and veil that Rasa wore, because he couldn't see if Rasa was even _listening._ A foolish thought. A shinobi always listens and Rasa is, if nothing else, a shinobi.

When they left the tower, Baki pulled Kankuro aside, and pressed half of his own pay for the mission into the boy's hand. Baki noticed that because of his shaking hands, the stripes of blood were uneven and where he had smeared his eyelids, the blood had dried cakey and thick on his eyelashes.  
He forestalled any protest with an upraised hand. "No, it's yours. You're going to go home, wash your face, eat a hot meal, then hug your sister and tell her you love her. Am I clear?"  
Despite his still shocked expression, Kankuro shut his mouth and ran off.

Later, having tempted his Puppeteer friend to the bar with the promise of a free drink, that Baki asked why Kankuro had streaked his face with blood. He got his answer. Apparently, when a new Puppeteer was sent out on his first kill, his face was painted in the design of a warrior, but the pattern purposefully left incomplete. The Puppeteer was to complete the design with the blood of his first kill, marking him as a full, 'blooded' warrior.

Kankuro was nine and a half.

Baki bought a bottle of sake and took it with him back to his room in the barracks. He bought a bottle not big enough to make him drunk, he was on duty tomorrow after all, which meant he could still remember the mission, and the explanation, with absolute clarity when he woke up the next day.

When he ran into Kankuro that morning, the boy was much clearer-eyed and looked as though a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. 'Thanks, Baki-sensei,' he said after they agreed to meet up for a spar that afternoon; as a blooded Puppeteer and a newly-promoted Genin as of last night, Kankuro now had some fluidity with his training schedule.

It was the first time Kankuro called him 'sensei'.

* * *

Baki knew about Gaara. Who didn't?

Besides, Baki had been in the Village four years ago when Yashamaru, Gaara's handler, disappeared and Shukaku was released. That night, he realised what the Kazekage had done. He had only half-chained a god of destruction.

His _own child!_ The thought still left a bitter taste in his mouth. The shinobi in him admired the lengths Rasa had gone to, killing his own heart to try and better the Village. But the human in him was disgusted; an unborn child, his own blood, an insane, empty shell for the Shukaku. _Wrong._

Baki went back to the barracks that night, intent on using up his saved water allowance in one long shower. He kept an eye on the window. His gut was telling him that something was off, and it had been right in the past. Someone was watching him. He could feel the eyes burning into the back of his neck, but every time he turned around, the feeling vanished.

The lights flickered and went out as a heavy, malicious chakra permeated the air.

Baki knew that chakra. It was unmistakable, inhuman. Everything was screaming at him to run, run away. He knew he couldn't run though. He lived in the desert; the sand would find him and embrace him no matter how fast he ran. The near-silent hiss of shifting sand in the shadowed corner of his room almost sounded like an agreement of his thoughts.

"You are the Kaze no Ken."

The voice is raspy from disuse, but it is a child's voice nonetheless. But only in pitch; a child's voice is not dead and flat like sandpaper. And Baki knows that it is not a child talking.

"You are Gaara," he says back. He doesn't know what else to say. He takes a deep breath and turns around. He would prefer to look his death in the eye.

The boy is skinny, clothed in regulation black shinobi pants and shirt, the only accessory a length of white cloth wrapped around the waist and over one shoulder. Under the dark skin around the eyes, the skin sags slightly from lack of sleep. The rest of the visible skin is flawless, unnaturally so, the only exception the vivid red of the kanji on his temple. A shifting cloud of sand circles his feet, like a twisted cat curling around and marking it's property.

Baki feels a tendril of chakra reach out and brush against his chakra network. He's felt it and done it a myriad of times before; it's a basic way for shinobi to identify each other. But this chakra is alien, he can almost hear it screaming for blood in the back of his head, as deep and as _uncaring_ as the sandstorms known to flay a man to the bone in minutes. The chakra caresses his own as if _enjoying_ the pain it causes him and Baki catches a glimpse of the mind behind it. Huge, colossal, old, and different. It's... it's like trying to swallow a mountain whole. A flash, and there's hate and bloodlust enough to burn the very heavens, and a deep, drowning darkness like his lungs are filled with sand.

It's only been a second, but Baki finds himself on his hands and knees on the floor, dry-retching as a fine mist of sand swirls around him. He looks up, and finds himself practically nose to nose with the Jinchuuriki. He freezes.

Those eyes are a washed out jade green. Blank and cold. There is no mercy in those eyes.

A small hand comes up and closes in on his face, close to his eyes. He wills his heart to stop beating, because it's too loud, and it will give away his position to the enemy and _what is he saying?!_

The hand never touches his skin.

The veil that hides half of his face is swept aside. He can't bring himself to care. It feels like that chakra already stripped him to the bone. And, he might look monstrous, but he knows that he is _nothing_ compared to the beast in front of him, wearing a child's skin.

Baki knows what he looks like under the veil. His eye was permanently sealed shut and his ear is slightly droopy, but he still has hearing on that side. The skin looks like a candle melted in the sun, whitish-pink and flabby folds.

"Why do you hide it?" The boy rasps, head tilted a little to the side in a way that might have been cute on a normal child, but on Gaara just screams predator.

"Otherwise, people stare." How is his voice so calm when he's frozen on the inside? Gaara blinks once, slowly. His hand withdraws and the veil falls back into place. Baki keeps still, as Gaara rises and backs away.

When Gaara vanishes in a whirl of sand and shadow, Baki's arms give out and he sprawls on the floor. He doesn't care; he's fucking alive. He can only chalk it up to Gaara's curiosity as to what sort of man his new teacher is as the reason why.

Baki thinks back to the toddling four-year-old he once knew, wide-eyed and terrified by the water and holding hands tightly with 'Yasha-oji.'

What happened that night? What broke the child inside and let in the beast? Only the Kazekage and his counselors know that for sure. You forged a weapon, Rasa, but then it broke. And now, it's not just cost you your wife and child, but all the shinobi and civilians it's killed and you've marked off as collateral.

Baki remembers the Third Kazekage back from when he was a Chunin. The Third loved this Village, but he loved the _idea_ of it. Rasa sees only the buildings, the money; he doesn't see the people's will crumbling. Baki thinks that if the Third could see Suna now, could see Gaara, he would be so very disappointed.

Now, all he's got to do is survive an unstable and bloodthirsty Genin Jinchuuriki until Gaara somehow makes Chuunin. Fujin-Kami-sama smile on them all, because Shukaku undoubtedly won't.

 **The 'swimming-lesson' plot bunny started out as 'How do Suna-nin know how to water-walk?' 'Where does Suna get it's water from?' 'Wouldn't it be logical to have a lot of the Village underground?'**

 **Then I wanted to do a scene where Kankuro goes all creepy with Crow hanging around his neck. Then, I remembered how calm Gaara originally was at the beginning of the Ch** **unin exam and it was Temari who said 'He's been getting more and more agitated as the Chunin exams progress', which led to me thinking 'How would a calm(albeit creepy) Gaara handle having a sensei(and respect one) while still being 'as long as there are still people to kill in this great, wide, crowded world, I will never disappear'?'**

 **For full effect:**

 **Listen to Naruto OST Glued State while reading the swimming lesson part, Naruto OST Student and Teacher Affection for the Kankuro part and Naruto OST Nervous for the Gaara part.**


	8. The Women

**Oh, yeah. You know how when we all heard Gaara's backstory for the first time, we all thought that the Yondaime Kazekage was a complete (insert derogatory term here)? Then we got to Shippuden and changed it to 'you had a reason, but you're still a (insert derogatory term here)'? Well I'd like to recommend** Break Down **by** MorriganFearn **(see my favourites list). It actually made me feel** ** _sorry_** **for the guy, as it's told from his point of view. The M rating is for tastefully done lime and torture scenes, mention of gore and a lot of mental stress. With a liberal dash of angst. And there are cameos from quite a few Konoha-nin.**

 **Yes, this chapter was a long wait. But I have three presents for you at the end!**

"Umm...Aunt Petunia?" Petunia Dursley didn't even turn around from chopping the carrots at the sound of her nephew's voice.

"Don't talk to me when I'm busy! Go to your room and keep silent, and for heaven's sake wash your face and do something with your hair. Now!" She said tersely, "or you won't get breakfast tomorrow!"

Harry scrambled up the stairs and into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He started when he saw Gaara and Kankuro sitting on his bed. "How did you get in!?"

"While your aunt was talking, we snuck up the stairs under a genjutsu," Kankuro replied, looking around with avid interest. Harry worried his bottom lip nervously. "Yeah, uh, sorry about my room, it's not the tidiest. Oh, that's Hedwig's cage, she's sleeping at the minute."

"A bird?" Asked Gaara, interested.

"Yeah, an owl. She's trained to deliver letters as well and she's really smart."

"Your aunt doesn't seem the type to let you keep an owl. Is she always that irritable?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, his brain screaming at him not to speak and that they had no right to interrogate him. But his heart was aching to speak; to vent all of the unfairness of it all, because someone actually wanted him to speak. Gaara and Kankuro didn't know he was the Boy-Who-Lived, perfect, blameless. A cool hand touched his own, the one that was screwing up the hem of his too-big T-shirt, prying his fingers loose and into a hand hold. Harry looked up at the hand's owner.

"I want to hear it from you," Gaara said solemnly. All Harry could do was stutter; "W-what?"

"Your thin, you're easily startled, you revealed in your letters that you've been in life-threatening situations, you seem to have no adults that you trust in your life and the family dynamic you have with your aunt... I can add them all up, but I want _you_ to tell me."

Harry felt like there was a snitch stuffed down his throat, trying to fly out. They wanted his opinion. I-it was the first time somebody had asked him to contribute. When was the last time he had actually had an opinion of his own? The Dursleys never cared. Everyone in the Wizarding World told him he was the Saviour, ignoring his protests that he was just Harry. He hadn't even wanted to join the Quidditch team in the first place, but no; Professor McGonagall and Oliver Wood just saw a way to win the House Cup from the Slytherins.

"No...Aunt Petunia's...it's just that Aunt Marge - Uncle Vernon's sister - is coming round, so she's trying to make everything nice. I've...," he took a deep breath. "I've gone without meals loads of times before, but Aunt Petunia...I guess she's the nicest out of the Dursleys, but still not what you would call pleasant."  
A hollow, bitter laugh wormed it's way out from between his lips and he scrubbed his suddenly hot and stinging eyes with the back of his hand. But he couldn't stop speaking.

"I...I suppose it could've been worse; I had food and a place to sleep and some kids don't have that. But when Uncle Vernon lost his temper and smacked me around a bit or they turned a blind eye to Dudley beating me up, they didn't care about me; they cared about whether the excuse to explain the bruises worked or not. So the whole neighbourhood thinks I'm a delinquent who goes around picking fights but nobody's ever asked me if it was true.

When I got to Hogwarts, I find I'm a celebrity for something my mum did when she was murdered. They all expect me to be perfect because they read about me in books, bu-but I'm not an' they look so disappointed and I don' know what to do t'make them see me an'not this damn scar on my face!"

Tears running freely now, Harry kept his hand in front of his face as if being unable to see would let him take back what he had just said.  
What had he been thinking?!

He hadn't meant to say anything about Hogwarts. Now he sounded like a spoiled brat.

He stiffened as a pair of arms encircled him in a hug, holding him close. Then all of the tension drained out of him and his sobbing began, fingers clutching at the dark crimson fabric of Gaara's coat.

* * *

"Darling!"

The best word to describe Angelique Calogera Artiglio Zabini, Matriarch of the Artiglio branch of the Zabini Dynasty, would probably be effusive.

She would sweep you up with her impeccable taste, aristocratic looks, witty and sly ripostes; all held together with boundless enthusiasm for life. If one were to ask her first and only-beloved husband, he would said that Angelique had a certain fondness for the colour champagne, rose quartz, cranberries and dark satire comedies. He would have left out that she had a terrifyingly beautiful instinct for knife-fighting, knew exactly how to fluster a man and had a streak of cunning a mile wide.

Her three late and considerably more disposable husbands since the first would tell you that...what do you mean I'm dead?

To her son, Blaise, she was just mother. He simply accepted that her status of serial widow was just her way of providing for him and the branch family; the ones she loved. To Blaise, she was the most Slytherin person he knew. She'd clawed her way up the ranks of the Family, had a network in both the Magical and Muggle worlds and operated on the belief that only she should be holding all the cards.  
That didn't mean that he didn't complain when his mother embarrassed him; he was thirteen and grown up for Merlin's sake!

"Madre!" He groaned as she embraced him. "Madre, stop it! I'm not a baby!"

"Eh? You will always be my uccellino Blaise! Now tell your Madre about what was going on in Diagon Alley today, leave out no detail!"

Blaised sighed, clicking his teeth together as he thought; a habit he had picked up from one of his cousins in the Piuma branch family. "Madre, I think it may be time to revise our contacts, there's a new player in the arena and he's powerful. He's also related to the Potter line."

"Ooooh?" Angelique purred, eyes narrowing. "You know something uccellino; do tell, do tell. But first, tea!" She whisked him into the Lily Parlour, calling for a House Elf; "Tazza!"

With a 'pop!' the aforementioned House Elf appeared, immaculate in a starched and pressed pillowcase embroidered with the Artiglio Zabini Crest and a brass hoop earring in one ear.  
"Mistress called for Tazza?"

"My son and I will be taking tea in the Lily Parlour. I'll have the Tung Ting Oolong, what do you want Blaise?"

"Sweet Ginger please Tazza."

"Tazza understands. Mistress and Young Master will have their teas." With another 'pop!' Tazza disappeared back to the Kitchens.

The Lily Parlour was Angelique's pride and joy and where she discussed 'business' - read: politics and shady Family affairs - with other Family members and her allies. It would also be used to impress potential allies; hence the stunning decor.

The room was actually a large hollow stone sphere half-sunk into the ground, a small circle at the top replaced by glass. Dragonflies made from coloured spun glass hovered high above, courtesy of the same charm Hogwarts used for its candles at feasts; reflecting the sunlight into shattered rainbows that danced over the curved walls. The walls themselves were painted a wash gradient of blue; a rich dark turquoise with gold and copper flecks at the base of the sphere to palest pastel blue with silver ripples around the glass ceiling panel. A round pond at the centre of the floor was the focus of the room, the lip tiled with a mosaic of pale pink glass fragments and smooth grey river pebbles. Impeccably sculpted waterlilies rendered in wax a delicate blush pink floated serenely on the surface, the tiny silver fish swimming underneath them in the deep, inky water making them bob and sway almost imperceptibly.

Angelique bustled Blaise over to one of the white wicker bowl chairs before curling up in one herself. With a 'pop!', their teas appeared on the floating glass disk that served as a refreshments table.

"Now!" She said suddenly, clapping her hands together before reaching for her tea. "Facts, deductions! I want everything in glorious technicolour detail!"

Blaise took a calming sip of his own tea to wet his lips. "Two young men, about seventeen to twenty years of age, who gave their names as Lord Gaara and Lord Kankuro. Both brothers. Lord Gaara is the younger but Lord Kankuro deferred to him with the title of 'Kazekage'. Lord Kankuro was introduced as Lord Gaara's bodyguard, Head of a 'Puppeteer Corps' and by the title of 'Puppet Master'. Lord Kankuro showed incredible skill in crafting, wandless animation charms and combining transfiguration with glamours. He himself said that he did not need a wand. According to one of the Goblin guards he exchanged comments with, he alienated himself with the House of Malfoy." Blaise blushed in remembrance of his own bad manners.  
"When I asked him what he was thinking in doing that, he told me to stop assuming things about him, his comrades, family, friends and people. He did not seem concerned with the Malfoys' anger.

Lord Gaara did not display any of his skills, but he walks and acts like Cousin Mafioso; he's been in a war, on the front lines, killed people without batting an eye and accepts it. Apparently he and Harry Potter are half-brothers through Lily Potter. He's politically savvy. When I gave him the run down of the Slytherin-Gryffindor divide and a rough version of the first war, he knew to exchange it for info of his homeland. Madre," Blaise broke off.

"They're battle mages." Taking note of his mother's widening eyes, he continued on. "Lord Gaara and Lord Kankuro are high ranking battle mages in a semi-military city with autonomy from their base country's governments. According to them, there are five of these cities in total and their's is located in a desert in a country called the Land of Wind."

He fell silent and both of them just sat, sipping their respective teas as the information sank in.

"Their clothes and appearance?" His eyes widened in silent confusion at his mother's question.

"Deduce their skills, personalities, social standing and intentions from their clothing and outward appearance, Blaise," Angelique sighed.

"Oh, apologies. Lord Kankuro dressed all in black, cloth seemed to be sturdy but light. Baggy, but secured by woven gauntlets at the wrists and bandages at the ankles. The space for freedom of movement but tied at the limbs to prevent flapping or snagging. The only exception was that the top garment came down into a wrapped-around skirt, but that could be for disguising leg movements. High-speed combat then. A grey, one-shouldered protective vest; I don't know the material and I don't know if it's been treated or enchanted to have extra properties. A piece of metal plate with an hourglass symbol was bolted onto the vest diagonally across the heart. Maybe some form of showing allegiance, like the Dark Mark, but also some extra protection. A black, open-faced hood with a long train that clipped loosely across the front of the chest. Since they live in a desert, it could be pinned across the face to protect from the sun and sandstorms.  
A thick woven belt held a large pouch on his left thigh. He took tools out of there, but I glimpsed paper and metal in there, I think. There was a black pouch strapped to his right leg mid-thigh; I didn't get a chance to take a look at it. Rubber sandals, but they looked manufactured and not crafted. Since he is military, there could be some sort of standard-issue footwear available.  
He also carried a large, oblong object wrapped in bandages with brown hair or fur escaping at one end. I don't know what it was, but he lifted it like it weighed absolutely nothing. His face was painted with lines in purple but I don't know their significance."

Blaise sipped his tea again to wet his dry mouth.  
"A soldier. Specially trained but part of a much larger regime. Moves at high speeds constantly and carries crafting materials with him, so they must be essential to his fighting style. Constantly assessing everything around him and defers to Lord Gaara but there's camaraderie between the two. Lord Gaara trusts him to make his own decisions, so they've been working together for a long time if they know each other that well. Some degree of enhanced strength, but I don't know whether he's the only one with that, or if it's common where they come from, or even how it is achieved."

"Hmm," his mother mused. "We have the soldier; puppets, interesting. Must remember to look up golem animation in the library later, unless Cousin Carmen stole it last time she came round. Why the girl couldn't just order her own copy, I'll never know. She's such a bibliophile. Anyway! You were telling me about this man Gaara, uccellino."

"Wears a long red coat with squares of the same vest material, but with small pockets, stitched on over vital points. A loose, tan-coloured scarf draped over his shoulders. I caught a glimpse of some sort of chainmail underneath the coat. A leather harness holds a small sandstone bottle to his hip, with the same black pouch as Lord Kankuro on the other leg. The harness strap has the same metal plate with an hourglass bolted on. The same rubber sandals as Kankuro. Short, spiky hair the colour of blood and dull green eyes has high similarity to Lily Potter. Eyes have dark birthmarks around them and he has a red tattoo or scar of an unknown letter or symbol on his left temple.

The squares of protective material on the coat must be some sort of compromise between no protection and a vest. The chainmail underneath may be part of that, or maybe I couldn't see that Lord Kankuro was wearing it. The stone bottle is a mystery as to what contains or what it could be used for. The birthmarks may be illness related or a side-effect of something. The symbol on his temple could be a ritual marking, a sign of something significant or simply personal preference.  
He seemed rather young to have so much experience as a Lord, but war or necessity could have changed that. He knows how to read people, how to pick up on the signals they give out without realising. If he is as ruthless a politician and warrior as he gives the impression of being, we will need to rearrange our plans."

Blaise set his cup down on the glass.  
"I've already worked out a plan of action, regarding offering Harry Potter advice on Pureblood etiquette through discreet correspondence. And if he should remember that 'friendship' once he has risen to power, then so be it."

"Etiquette? You mean that these two Foreign Lords finally made him aware of the sheer _power_ he holds? This is going to be a big shift. But," she smiled, a sharp, smug crescent that a foul-mouthed Muggle might have described as 'shit-eating'. "Your little idea gives us a way in. I'm proud of you Blaise. But, Non fare il passo piu'lungo della gamba."

* * *

 **Angelique's saying at the end translates to 'don't make your step longer than your leg'; the Italian equivalent idiom of 'don't bite off more than you can chew'.**

 **I hope you all liked her character** **by the way.**

 **On another note, I noticed that some of the fics in my favourites list have TVtropes pages, but The Mouse of Konoha doesn't. *cough*hint*cough***

 _ **Presents!**_

 **The picture of Gaara's outfit can be found here (remove brackets)= art/Gaara-and-Harry-from-Stairs-of-Sand-636660832**

 **Kankuro's is here (remove brackets)= art/Kankuro-and-Blaise-from-Stairs-of-Sand-636661023**

 **Kankuro's in colour is here (remove brackets)= art/Kankuro-and-Blaise-coloured-637628779**

 **Also, please review and tell me if you want a flashback filler arc to when Lily donated her egg (she would meet Rasa and Karura).**

 **And I posted a new chapter on my Plot Bunny fic that isn't getting much love.**


	9. Halloween Special: The Fears

**Halloween Special! These are two Boggarts that I'm sure everyone wants this story to have. Well, the sad likelyhood is, they aren't going to feature. But because I love you guys, here they are.**

 **This one is Gaara's and given what happened with his father in Shippuden, I thought this being his Boggart and his reaction rather fitting. It's bittersweet, I'll say that. Music for this chapter is Naruto OST Hokage (Mentally replace it with the word Kazekage and it fits).**

Gaara, ever since being told about Boggarts, had secretly wondered what he considered his greatest fear. It was unlikely it was going to be some tableau of gore; he was quite used to such things. His father and his uncle held no pain anymore. Kankuro, Temari and possibly Naruto or Baki being dead or horrifically murdered? Possible, very possible. His siblings and sensei may be powerful, but there were shinobi stronger than them out there. And since his own death at the hands of Akatsuki, the fact that Naruto - bright, alive and intense _Naruto -_ could be rendered so lifeless had fleetingly haunted the edges of his dreams more than once.

As an explorer of the psyche, it interested him on a professional level as well as personal. A morbid level as well; he had overheard several shinobi in his T&I Department wondering what their Kazekage - who's mere presence could and had reduced missing-nin to quivering jelly - could possibly be afraid of.

He had not expected this. At first, he couldn't comprehend what was happening or how it related to him. But as the scene unfolded, a tidal wave of understanding swept over him and he smiled.

* * *

A Suna shinobi knelt before a figure in white Kazekage robes and hat, clutching a fussing infant wrapped in swaddling in his arms.

"My Lord, you must do this for the sake of the Village; we need to do this now! The sealing ritual has been altered so the chances of you dying have been lessened to 45%, so why do you hesitate? Given your talents, the first choice is your own child," here the shinobi's arms shifted to steady his grip on the infant, "or would you rather another child, someone else's son or daughter?!"

Even as the robed figure stood unmoving, the shinobi grew more desperate, rising to his feet. Now his face had abruptly become bruised and bloodied, his flak jacket stained and slashed. "There is no other option! The Puppet Corps is dead to the last member! The Wind Corps is practically obliterated! Including Lord Kankuro and the Lady Temari! Will their sacrifice be in vain? Enough blood has been spilled; this needs to be done if the Village is to live!"

The robed figure reaches up a hand and pulls the Kazekage hat from their head. Blood-red hair, flecked with grey at the temples and crease-lines around solemn eyes ringed with black. Grief-filled and questioning eyes that looked at the real Gaara desperately, asking for an answer.

The real Gaara stepped forward, a small, sad smile on his lips. His older counterpart and the bloody shinobi both looked at him curiously.

"I understand now," he said softly. "But if I were to live, I know I'd never let another Jinchuuriki go through what I had to. If I died, I'm sure Naruto would take care of them." He laid a hand on the older Gaara's shoulder, his doppelganger's robes feeling cold and smooth rather than the thick rough cloth the real ones would be. "I already know I will never be my father. I don't want to be; that's why you're the way you are. But that day hasn't come yet, so you go back now."

Both figure shifted and blurred, before melding together and flowing like mist back into the cupboard.

* * *

 **Yeah, I thought that Gaara having to chose between his Village or condemning an innocent child to what he suffered, and that having to choose would make him into his father, would be a suitable Boggart.**

 **This is Shikamaru's Boggart and I'll say now this is both gory and angsty. Music for this is Naruto Shippuden OST Sengunbanba.**

Shikamaru yawned as he just walked into the empty classroom. Really, this was just too easy. No traps, no alarms, no nothing.

The tall, old cupboard in the corner rattled ominously and he leapt back apace, palming a kunai.

What was this? A person couldn't possibly be trapped in there; the space would be too small. Besides, he had checked that no-one was in there before entering. Some sort of animal perhaps? But surely it would be more efficient to have it in a cage or tank instead of a rotten old cupboard? Even if it preferred the dark, he was pretty sure that you could get specially made cages for that sort of animal, or spells could be used to simulate such an environment.

He would check, just make sure. He could easily stop it from escaping with his Shadow Possession Jutsu.

Throwing a kunai to damage the bolt so the door would swing open, in case the creature surprised him in close proximity, was easy enough.

Hinges slumping, the cupboard door swung open.

Eyes wide with sudden shock, Shikamaru completely forgot about his jutsu as his hands fell to his sides.

"Sensei..."

* * *

As Lupin led his class along the corridor, his ears (enhanced by his wolfish side) picked up the sound of a man sobbing and someone hacking up blood. Coming from his classroom.

He raced forward, heedless of the puzzled cries of his students left standing behind him. Skidding a little to turn the corner, he saw immediately that the door to his classroom was open. Faster he ran, catching the frame of the doorway to steady himself; he had almost slammed into it in his haste.

He looked in onto a truly horrifying sight and felt the bile rise in his throat.

A young woman with pale skin and red eyes lay spreadeagled on the floor, long wavy black hair in a halo around her face frozen in horror. On the cold stone beside her was the crumpled form of an infant. Both were horrifically murdered; short, deep slash wounds that had bled profusely and the carmine tide of which now congealed on the flagstones and crusted both the woman's blue dress and the baby's duckie romper suit.  
If that weren't enough, a man stood over them. What with the vicious-looking knuckleduster-blades on his fists being drenched in blood, it was heartrendingly obvious he was the perpetrator of of the inhumane scene. Yet, he was sobbing; tears running down the oddly cracked and peeling cheeks, as if his skin were paint exposed to a raging flame.

One of the shinobi currently in residence at Hogwarts, the lazy one who smoked, was standing stock still, staring wide-eyed at the gory tableau as if turned to stone.

"Why...why Shikamaru?!" The man gasped out, raising his gaze. Remus' breath caught in his throat. The whites of the man's eyes were completely black. "Why couldn't you...stop me? I didn't want...'" The sobbing started anew.

"Sensei," Shikamaru breathed uncertainly as he stepped forward. "Sensei, I...but I...'"

"Shut UP!" Shikamaru snapped his outstretched hand back as his teacher(?!) stumbled to his feet. "You promised me you'd protect them! That you would protect the king! Did my death MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?"

Shikamaru fell to his knees, face pale as broken apologies tumbled half-gasped from his lips. The man continued his tirade, face now twisted in a rictus sneer of loathing and disappointment. "What about the Will of Fire? Did you fail at that as well?! DID YOUR FATHER DIE FOR NOTHI-urk!"

Speech abruptly cut off, the man slumped, leaning on the black spears that had sprouted from the floor. They retracted, blurring back into Shikamaru's writhing shadow as he lifted his tear-stained face to snarl at the fading mass on the stones in front of him.

"My sensei's body was desecrated," he hissed, hands unfolding slowly from his handsign. "But nothing and nobody desecrates his memory and lives. And get your facts straight; I'm a Nara. I'm not going to forget how the war ended easily. They're still alive.  
And when you threaten the king? I take it personally."

In one fluid motion, he rose and stalked to the door. Pushing past Lupin and the queasy-looking teenagers, he didn't look back as he vanished down the corridor. He paused and fished for a cigarette once he was far away, setting it alight with the silver lighter he always kept close.

"Put that out!" Shrieked a portrait. He tuned out the rest of its rant.

* * *

 **Yeah, that Boggart was pretty obvious, since Stairs of Sand is set Post-Fourth-War.**

 **On other news, I am considering moving Dem Bones, Dem Dry Bones from my Plot Bunny collection to a separate story. It is quite addictive writing it, as it's a non-angsty SI. It has a second chapter now, so go read them and review if it deserves its own story.**


	10. The Opinions

**Today's fic-recommendation is** Uprooted **by** Orrunan **. In an AU where Naruto does drag Sasuke back from the Valley of the End and the Sandaime is still alive, Danzo manages to induct Naruto into ROOT. Naruto didn't get the memo that he's supposed to be being brainwashed. Danzo is screwed, Sai is adorably clinically emotionally stunted, Naruto 'converts to friendship' every ROOT member he can find and Kakashi, Iruka, Hinata and Tsunade are on the warpath.  
A nice fic and very well tied together despite the small number of chapters. Reasonable amount of hilarity, but in keeping with the canon show and surprisingly serious in certain places.**

Shikamaru Nara was not stupid. Well, the name of his clan kind of gave that away. But given that he was staying as a diplomatic guest in the Kazekage's mansion, it was painfully obvious that the Sand Siblings (it had been their name as a team in the mission selection books and it had stuck) had their minds in other matters than dreadfully dry things like reopening trade contracts.

He couldn't speak for Kankuro or Gaara - both being cloistered away for most of the day in areas which he was not allowed access to - but Temari had seemed rather excited over the past few weeks. Not adrenaline-rush excited, more...seeing-someone-you-haven't-seen-in-ages-and-you-thought-was-probably-dead excited.

Temari hadn't spoken of any civilian contacts outside of Suna during the time he had spent with her, and those would certainly not be information sensitive enough to merit concealing the drafts and replies of her letters from him. Within-Village contacts wouldn't merit writing a letter by hawk and his original theory of her having another man in her life had been shot down by her directly.

What was going on?

It was a puzzle, a social one instead of the Shogi and Go he had played as a child. His father...his father had taught him how to read people and Inoi...Ino's father had helped as well. Setting him puzzles based on other people's behaviour and how it might effect or cause a situation.

He missed his father. Inoichi too; the two men being so close, the mind-walker had been like an uncle to him. It hurt so fucking much that they were dead. _'I'll be there for you to pick up the pieces,'_ was what his father had said when Asuma-sensei died. Well, who was gonna be there when his father died?! There wasn't even anyone left to get revenge on and he'd stand no chance against a Bijuu, let alone they fact they're essentially immortal.

He'd spent days in the Nara forest, wanting to be alone because even stepping in the house made his heart ache. Ino had the Yanamaka clan to help her through this, but that meant they had no time to really listen. He didn't even feel like talking to any of them anyway, much as he liked and respected them (even the sadistic bastards in T&I).

At least Suna held no memories. And Temari was here as well. He was grateful to the Kazekage for letting him stay. He knew he would have to go back; he needed to be instated as Clan Leader, but he didn't think he was ready to go back to Konoha just yet. But still, there was only so much to do. Maybe this little mystery would keep him occupied for a while.

* * *

 **'Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore,**

 **Gringotts(London Branch, Diagon Alley) has been recently informed that Harry James Potter, Heir Apparent of the Most Ancient and Noble House Potter, was continuously uninformed of his status and he has not received either lessons in Etiquette and Property Management or his Annual Vault Statements. Both have been investigated.**

 **Owl wards were found placed around Heir Potter's noted place of residence. Gringotts is most displeased that its business affairs have been delayed. As Heir Potter's registered Magical Contact, Gringotts warns you, Albus Dumbledore, to remove or adjust the owl wards around No.4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.**

 **Business has also been hindered by Heir Potter's lack of knowledge. As his Magical Contact, Gringotts holds you personally responsible. Gringotts takes offense to its business affairs being interfered with, for this communique is your first, last and _only_ warning.**

 **Failure to correct this state of affairs will result in your vault, and the contents within, closed and seized.**

 **Ragnok, Clan U'rek'shu, Temporary Vault Keeper of the House Potter Accounts, Manager of Gringotts London Branch.'**

Dumbledore put down the letter and sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He had feared this day would come.

In their school days, James Potter and to a certain extent, Sirius Black, had acted better than others because of their wealth; not necessarily their blood purity or magic affiliation. That money could do much let them believe that they could get away with a lot, but as a result they had isolated themselves from their peers, denying themselves friendships. He had hoped that Harry would not fall pray to that if he kept the knowledge of such wealth out of his mind. He had been overjoyed to see Harry forging friendships he would have scorned if he were affected by the glitter of gold; Harry was so much like James. Miss Granger believed quite firmly in equality and fairness while young Ronald Weasley knew that happiness was possible even with little means.

At least all was not lost; Harry still had a firm grounding those values and his friendship with Miss Granger and Mister Weasley would keep him grounded. After all, access to all that money and power with no parental supervision was a dangerous combination, so level heads like those would prevent Harry being irresponsible. The only blot on the plan was that Harry might find out what he, his Headmaster, had done. As a child, Harry would not understand and lash out. Such anger would be bad and it would destroy whatever tenuous bridges of trust lay between them.

It was a puzzle how Harry had known to ask a Goblin for his vaults, but he had heard about the disturbance at Gringotts that morning; someone - or _something_ \- that the Goblins took offense to had tried to walk into the bank under a glamour. And there was news that Harry had been sighted in Diagon Alley with that same being as well as another man with blood-red hair who dressed in a crimson coat. Who were they, what were their intentions and how did they contact Harry?

He briefly debated with himself about sending an owl or maybe Fawkes to Harry with a letter, but decided against it. He didn't want appear nosy or controlling. And it was nearly the start of term anyway; his questions could keep until then.

* * *

"Gaara?"

"Hmm?"

"Is it me or is Harry's owl giving off Killing Intent?" Gaara's head whipped round to see a white owl with black spots and yellow eyes glaring with visible malice at Kankuro who had taken the sheet off the top of the cage it inhabited.

"It's not just you Kankuro; I was not aware Harry had a nin-animal." Getting up from the bed slowly, gently lying an emotionally exhausted and sleeping Harry back down as he did so, he walked over to the cage. Most in the Suna Chunin Corps had Chakra Scorpions or Chakra Lizards ***(see ftn)** as nin-partners and there was an entire chapter in shinobi social etiquette that detailed interacting with nin-animals. As Kazekage, you came across all sorts.

"Are you the owl Harry referred to as 'Hedwig'?" He asked. The owl, seemingly a little surprised she had been addressed directly, bobbed her head in agreement.  
"Please understand that neither I or my brother mean any harm to your partner. Would our positions be more agreeable if we were to release you from this cage?" Another head bob.

The second he flipped the latch and the cage door swung open, Hedwig took flight in a flurry of wings, before alighting on Harry's shoulder, precking softly in his ear. Harry mumbled, not waking. Hedwig nibbled his ear; that woke him up. He started upright, making Hedwig take flight once more before resettling on his shoulder. "Hedwi', wha'?"

"Very articulate," Kankuro said, amused, as Harry adjusted his glasses. "It would save us a lot of trouble in the future if you formally introduce us to your nin-owl."

"What-owl? Uh, Hedwig, Gaara and Kankuro, Gaara and Kankuro, Hedwig?"

"Close enough. Hedwig, I'm his half-brother, and Kankuro is my full brother," Gaara supplemented. "I hope to work with you in the future. Now Harry, you should have said you had a nin-partner earlier."

"But Hedwig's just a post owl, she's not a ninja or anything."

"Regardless of what you call her, her chakra level and intelligence as well as the strong protective bond she has for you mark her as something more than just a useful pet," Kankuro explained. "She would register as a nin-animal, that is, an intelligent animal companion primarily deployed in battle, to any shinobi. That status means she has the right to a certain amount of respect and freedom. I'm shocked she even let you cage her to begin with!"

A horribly guilty look crossed Harry's face. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know about any of this!" But Kankuro just waved off the apology. "No, no; I should have realised you didn't know this; I can tell you're not the kind of person to knowingly imprison someone like that. I'm just too used to people knowing this stuff already."

"Speaking of 'knowing stuff'," Gaara cut in smoothly. "There're are few things we mentioned would be best explained in person, remember?" Harry nodded. "We have time before you need to present yourself for dinner, and we'll save the heavy subjects for after, but for now let's go through exactly who and what we are. Tell us, have you heard of the term 'shinobi'?"

* * *

 _45 Minutes Later..._

Kankuro couldn't help it; he laughed out loud at the letter held in his hands until his sides started to hurt. Thank Kami for the privacy ward they put up before getting into an explanation.

"Hahahahaha...sor-ahaha...sorry, but...haha...aaha...aaha...ahh. S-sorry about that," he explained at the sight of Harry's stunned facial expression. He passed the letter along to Gaara, who skimmed it quickly and snickered in recognition.

"It's just...ha...that book is pretty well known back home to those with the right clearance," Kankuro continued. "It was written back, oh, must be what, 290? Yeah, roughly 290 years ago now. Those families? The Yamanaka and Inuzuka? They're Clans now, settled and not nomadic anymore.  
Yeah, that book was written 290 years ago, by non-shinobi. You can probably guess that the information's really out of date. Oh, you know you get myths from different cultures about how things came about? Creation myths? Like that; some of it they got right, but loads of it is way off, especially the bit with the Sage of Six Paths and the Ten-Tails. That book's been out of print for way over 200 years. It's famous for another reason, but we can tell you about that later."

"The Tailed Beasts were masses of untapped power," Gaara broke in, picking up the line of conversation. "So of course, human nature dictated that shinobi would find a way to use that power against each other. They came up with Jinchuuriki." He cut himself off somewhat abruptly, as if scared to continue and left Harry turning his head to each in search of answers.

"Jin-chooricky, uh...okay. What does that mean?" The silence continued, but only Kankuro noticed the minuscule tremor in Gaara's fingers as he spoke.  
"Literally, it means Human Sacrifice. Jinchuuriki are children with the Tailed Beasts sealed inside their minds and chakra network. Many are trained to be living weapons. Nearly all are ill-treated by the Villages they were created to fight for. A few go mad. Most die a suicide death on the battlefield."

Kankuro discreetly let his own hand slip down to brush his little brother's, the skin-to-skin contact and the accompanying probe of chakra to remind him that he was not abandoned, that he was loved and needed, that he was _something._

Harry felt sick to his stomach. "They...children!? How could...what sort of person would...'" Then the pieces started to click into place. "Is that what happened to Shukaku? Some poor kid is walking around with a monster in his head, with nobody looking out for him?!" Gaara visibly hesitated in uncertainty now, and Harry drew several implications from that. "You're important, can't you do something? You have to help, a child is being brainwashed into being a mindless weapon of mass destruction and you're both just sitting here like nothing's wrong?!"

Gaara felt conflicted. On one hand, his new little brother was, in his well-intentioned ignorance, accusing him of letting another child suffer the pain he had endured. A ripple of anger, tempered by his own iron control and his amusement at this prime example of dramatic irony trembled through his veins.

On the other hand, that Harry felt such compassion and righteous anger over the life of a hypothetical Jinchuuriki made hope well up in his heart and let him speak the words sitting on his tongue. "I did do something."

Harry paused, caught out unexpectedly. His older brother's chakra reassuringly brushing against his gave Gaara the support he needed to continue. "I was raised to be a living weapon. I was ill-treated by my Village. I even went mad for a while. I wrote to you that nobody expected me to become Kazekage, but I proved them all wrong and made something of myself."

It took Harry only a few seconds to connect the two descriptions. "So...you're? And you...?" Despite the vagueness of the questions, they were very clear. Gaara, not risking speech in case it changed things, only nodded.

Inside his head, Harry was reeling. Gaara...Gaara had gone through all of that and could still sit there so calmly. Harry briefly wondered what it might have been like if the shunning of himself because of the Parseltongue thing had continued for years. All that equal parts of fear and slander but from everyone and for so, so long.  
What did he do? What did he say? What are you supposed to do when someone tells you something like this? Then he noticed that the longer he remained silent, the more nervous Gaara looked.  
Of course; if he told anyone about being a Parselmouth, he'd be worried about how they'd react. Did...did Gaara think that he didn't want him anymore?

"It's fine," he choked out, unsure of what exactly to say. "You're still my brother, it's fine. It's fine, it's fine, it's okay...'" For the second time that day, he found arms wrapping around him, but this time he found himself the one providing reassurance as Gaara's uneven breathing sounded just above his head.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kankuro's shoulder's sag in relief as if a great weight had been lifted from him. Harry saw him knead his brow as if banishing a headache and his eyes were suspiciously shiny. He also thought he heard a quiet 'thank you', but dismissed it as having imagine it.

* * *

 **Footnote: Concentrations of natural chakra in remote places can result in the mutation of local animals having greater size, odd features and higher intelligence. These animals can be trained as nin-animals, but they are not summons. It is rumoured that this is the origin for the Inuzuka hounds, who no longer need natural chakra due to their hereditary connection to their human counterparts.**

 **Each Village tends to use these areas as survival training grounds. Konoha's Forest of Death has giant snakes, giant pack-orientated tigers, oddly intelligent squirrels and swarms of giant tree-dwelling leeches. Suna has giant three-tailed scorpions(no-one has tamed one yet), large intelligent scorpions, intelligent vultures, large golden moles and the infamous Suna Worms(adult males clock in at an average of 72 meters long and 8 meters across). The Shodai Kazekage was rumored to have had at least one Worm as a nin-animal.**

* * *

 **Finally! Oh god this chapter was difficult to write. At least I have the 'shitty-childhood-trauma' excuse. But seriously, I find it incredibly difficult to write...*flails arms wildly in bemusement*...feelings.**

 **And I know some of you were disappointed by the 'connection-of-the-worlds' explanation. Hopefully you are happy now I've revealed it was a not entirely accurate one. We will get the REAL one at some point. Promise.**

 **Also, I'm going to try and make Dumbles...not-evil...and that's going to be a challenge since some of the best Harry Potter stories I've read on this site have him like that and really, they have a lot of proof behind them. In this, he's not going to be evil, just a chess master who's forgotten that he's actually playing with human lives and that human factor means that things rarely go according to plan.**


	11. The Owl

**Recommended fic for today is** Who up there hates me? **by** BetweenTheSeaAndStars **. It's one of the best SI OCs I've seen. Our purple-themed main character must navigate weird chakra, stupid Academy classes, unrepentantly gossipy Hyuugas and Tobirama's trolling from beyond the grave. Surprisingly, it's a somewhat serious story.**

 **I will say that there is one thing I've always wanted to see in the Wizarding World: a Wizarding Art Shop. Flourish and Blotts doesn't seem to really cut it. But it's FanFiction, so I can just make my own...If anyone wants to borrow mine, PM me.**

 **This may seem like a filler chapter, but there are a few snippets of relevant stuff.**

Aunt Marge arrived that evening, but Harry was too preoccupied to respond to her half-drunken tirade through dinner. Gaara and Kankuro had left for their hotel a little before Aunt Petunia had called for him to come downstairs. They had promised to come round first thing in the morning, so he had quite happily gone to bed when Aunt Petunia told him to. He decided to risk keeping Hedwig out of her cage that night. It had always seemed wrong to keep any animal in a cage, ever since he went to the zoo and talked to the snake; doubly so since Hedwig was a bird and birds were meant to fly free.

Hedwig purred softly in contentment as she sat on her chick's shoulder, preening his crest. It was good to be out, and the big stone nest had too many distractions for her human chick to come and see her. And without her, he had gotten into all sorts of danger. And he looked a mess; everyone knew that you needed to preen properly, but she never had the opportunity to teach him how to do it, or do it for him. She thanked the red-crested one and the purple-striped one who were her chick's brothers. They had obviously been raised properly, since they had noticed her for what she really was. She was grateful.

* * *

"What's your status?" Gaara whispered to Kankuro as his brother examined the wall. Behind them the sun was setting and they needed to book into their hotel by midnight.

"Good," he replied. "It's obvious that it's not set to a specific signature, so I'm betting it's just chakra pulses on set bricks."

"Chakra is different from magic, it's probably not compatible."

"Chakra is just a more evolved variant, it should work!"

"Try it then."

Kankuro tapped on the bricks in the pattern he saw before, sending chakra pulses through his fingertip as he did so. The wall shuddered for a minute, as if indecisive, before disappearing as it was meant to. "See, told you!"

"Oh, shut up and put on your henge."

A few minutes later, two non-descript wizards in middle class robes paused at the entrance to a dark mouth of an alleyway between two rickety shops. A myriad eyes followed them as they swept through the Stygian gloom. Knockturn Alley after dark was not a wise place to be. One denizen fingered his wand and slipped out of his hiding place to pace a safe distance behind them. Within a second there was a knife hovering in thin air, pressed to his throat. The hindmost of the two figures had paused, as if waiting for him to make the next move. He backed off and ran, deciding that it wasn't worth it. The two were given a wide berth after that.

The two stopped outside of Scribblibone & Claw Stationary, Art Supplies and Owls, before entering.

The proprietor, one Ezekiel Scribblibone, looked up from restocking the quill display to see two young wizards, very ordinary looking. A little too ordinary, but with the clientele he usually catered to, he wasn't going to fuss if somebody wanted to wear a glamour. "Evening," he greeted them cordially. "If'n you gents would care ta wait before making ya purchases; we're jus' switching over ta night shift."

"We'll just browse for the minute then," one of them said, before joining his companion in examining the racks of notebooks.

Not five minutes later, Amadeus Claw, co-owner of the store as well as one of Knockturn Alley's more respectable resident vampires, entered the shop through the Staff-Only door. "Good evening Ezekiel, gentlemen," he said, sweeping over to the desk. "Welcome to Scribblibone and Claw Stationary, Art Supplies and Owls, please consult myself if you wish for specialized or custom items, or you wish to view our owls," he rattled off as if reading from a script, only pausing to run his eyes across the two prospective customers and raise a single eyebrow.

"What do you have in the way of specialized items?" The smaller of the two asked, coming over to the desk. Amadeus took out a ledger and opened it.

"We have 'Backtalk' protection on a wide variety, handwriting and spellcheck on children's notepads, brush selection on sketchpads, animate-my-doodle on sketchpads, Self-Organizing contents pages on a variety in our business range, linked notebooks, Colour-choose pencils, Match-That-Colour paintbrushes...'" He was interrupted.

"Linked notebooks? What one person writes in one shows up in the other?" The man asked, and Amadeus gave him a nod in confirmation. "Can I get a linked pair?"

"Certainly sir. Would you like the 'auto-wipe' model, where the message will fade when it is received by the other person, or would you like the more expensive 'legion page' where the extra pages will appear when you start to run out; the messages will keep so you can flick back whenever you want."

"Legion page please."

"One moment please sir," with that, the Mediterranean man with the red eyes and unusually sharp canines crossed over to a small drawer set in the blank wall behind the desk and opened it before sticking his hand in and saying aloud; "Linked Notebook, two, Legion Page, no-feature." When Amadeus withdrew his hand from the mokeskin bottomless pouch that lined the draw, he held two A5 board-bound black notebooks in his hand. Carrying them back over to the desk after closing the draw, he laid them both side by side as if mirror images on the desk. He then took the back cover of one and the front cover of the other and opened then so that they pressed together. The rune and potion combination within the covers activated and there was a brief glow of light before it subsided. "The two have now been linked. That will be 28 galleons for the pair."

To his surprise, instead of counting out the money from a purse or pouch, the customer took a small thin scroll from _somewhere_ (where exactly must have been hidden under the glamour) and unrolled it on the desk, exposing a spiderweb of squiggles and curves that looked not unlike runes. The man pressed his finger to the center, there was a puff of smoke and 28 galleons appeared. The scroll was rolled back up and secreted away again. Amadeus decided to hold his tongue.

"Little Brother, can we look at the owls?" The other man said, having held his tongue up until now. The first man, the one with a red lining to the inside of his robe sighed; "I just bought these notebooks and we have plenty of messenger birds back home."

"For Littlest Brother," was the reply from the man with purple buttons on the front of his outer robe.

"He already has an owl," Red said.

"For study then," Purple retorted. At this Red eyed his brother for a few seconds before giving in with "you're paying. And taking care of it."

* * *

"So,...can I ask a couple of questions about your stock?" The younger man Amadeus Claw had named 'Red' in lieu of an actual name, asked while the other man, apparently the older brother, perused the perches of owls in the massive underground aviary.

"Sure," Claw sighed.

"This alley is obviously where all the shady businesses end up. Fair's fair, they need to go somewhere too, where they won't mar the reputation of everyone else. But this place makes an effort to be nice, and your goods don't seem illicit; they sound downright helpful. So there must be some reason why you have to keep everything behind the counter, and why your store is in a place like this."

"Well, according to the powers that be, most of our stock is dangerous, if not outright Dark," Claw sighed, kneading his temple. "Since you're new here, I don't mind explaining this. It started when magicals, mostly new-bloods, tried to find domestic, nice uses for some pretty dodgy spells and enchantments. Our stock is the result, and it is all harmless. But because they're all derived from Dark or harmful spells, the items themselves are classified the same.  
It took some relatives of mine a real bit of string pulling to get some concessions so we could actually open the place. We have to keep all of that stuff behind the counter, have it under watch 24/7, can't sell to minors, stuff like that."

Red looked thoughtful. "Interesting. As you said, my brother and I are new here. We are not used to a - what's the phrase, ah - 'blanket ban' on a type of technique if only some are dangerous. What techniques are your things based on anyway?"

"Well, 'Backtalk' protection, brush-selection, animate-my-doodle, Self-Organizing, Colour-choose and handwriting and spellcheck are all from sentience and animation spells, which kind of dabbles with necromancy apparently. The only exceptions to the rules are the private companies that manufacture talking mirrors; companies in the Ministry's pocket...and Hogwarts' simulacrum defences, but that's because Hogwarts is a historical site and actually private land; exempt from the Ministry of Magic.

Match-That-Colour products have watered down versions of an old spell to extract and duplicate blood, which can be used in a lot of nasty stuff, and with that spell you could get a large supply from very little."

"And the notebooks?"

"They can pass their information through any ward, because the runes bend space and time a little bit. They can circumvent any ward, even the Fidelius, so they're a big security risk."

Red looked thoughtful at this. "Any ward you say? Good. Hopefully that might get us around a slight problem I have..."

"Well, aren't you a unique one?" Came the voice of Purple, unexpectedly. Amadeus looked to see what owl the man had found, but to his surprise, found him standing by the owls that needed to be caged for customer safety. He was shocked; despite his vampiric hearing, he hadn't heard the man's footsteps! He strained to hear them, then realised the root of the uneasy feeling that had been lurking in the back of his head since he first laid eyes on the two. Their footsteps were silent, only the whisper of displaced air giving any indication they were moving at all.

Deciding that their inhuman nature was what the two men were hiding under the glamour, the vampire moved swiftly over to the row of cages both men were now looking at. Oh dear.  
"Sirs, that owl is not for sale. It's only use is delivering messages to more disreputable characters and donating feathers for potions ingredients and wand cores; it has mauled everyone who has tried to handle it and I'm the only one it will behave with! Please, we have many more owls for you to choose from, so if you would kindly step away before you aggravate it...'"

The two men made to turn away, but they were interrupted by the sudden angry whistle that vaguely resembled a dying man's last breath through a torn throat. An irritated pair of blank yellow eyes bored into them as a red-feathered 2 meter wingspan flared and beat the air with a single, contemptuously indignant flap.

"I did mean what I said," Purple said to it. "Freedom to fly when you want, you can catch prey yourself and you get your opinion listened to. What I ask in return are chances to take a few readings and for you to maybe deliver a few messages. And no attacking anybody we say not to. Sound reasonable?"

The large sculpted head paused in deliberation for a few seconds, before inclining in a decisive nod.

Amadeus had watched the exchange, the greater portion of his not unformidable mental capacity preoccupied with stopping himself from doing a credible impression of a stranded fish. One of his potentially non-human customers was hashing out what sounded like an employment deal with one of his most malicious owls. And the owl was replying in a coherent manner. Yes, the world had obviously gone mad. As soon as he arranged for one of his cousin's to substitute for him in the store, he was taking a week's holiday back to Italia and the Family. The stress was getting to him, it was the only reasonable explanation.

"Would you mind opening the cage, please?" Red asked him. "And if you don't mind me asking, what's his name and what species is he?"

Even as he fumbled for the right key on his belt, the vampire reeled off his information. "He's a Strix, from the Grecian Isles. He's an adult male at the age of 15 years, but Striges have been known to live to between 90 to 112 years, so there's a lot of life in him still. Ezekiel got him as a chick, as one of his hare-brained schemes to make extra money; by breeding Striges to sell the feathers to potioneers. Didn't work out, the breeding part, I mean. Every female owl, whatever the breed, we tried to pair him with were refused at best or attacked and plucked alive at worst. You be careful when you take him now: we'll take him back if it doesn't work out, we can still use the feathers, but we don't do compensation for injuries, okay?"

The second the cage door swung open, Amadeus threw himself back to avoid any potential claws to the face. He needn't have worried. The bird took flight and did two triumphant circuits of the owlry ceiling before landing imperiously on the proffered arm Purple had outstretched to serve as a perch, like he had worked with raptors before.

A Strix was one of the most dangerous Magical raptors in the world. This one was a prime specimen. The two ear-tufts were long and well feathered. The eyes were a solid yellow, set in a scalloped face. The bronze-coloured beak, instead of being nestled in a thick ridge of facial down, was large and curved, more like an eagle's. All four feet, both pairs, carried long, meat-hook talons. And every single feather was the colour of blood. Whether it was the freshly-spilled red of the pinions, secondaries, primaries and back feathers, the old-stain brown of the chest down, or the dried-flakes black of the rims around the eyes, this bird was the embodiment of that life-giving arterial spray.

"A name, you never said his name," Red reiterated.

"Well, Ezekiel nicknamed him Bram on a whim, once. I think he was trying to be funny."

"How? I don't get the reference, but the name rings a bell."

"As in Bram Stoker, author of Dracula?" At the blank look that practically made the stone floor look gaudy, Claw sighed aloud, allowing some of his frustration to bleed through. "Striges are vampiric owls, okay?! They drain the blood of their prey before devouring the flesh; they're vampires like me, that's why I thought the name was in bad taste."

At his revelation, neither of the two recoiled, or even showed any particular surprise.  
"Oh, I thought I sensed you were a bit different to everyone else," Red said casually, as if it were no big deal. "We've seen stranger abilities than blood-drinking, so I didn't think on it too much."

"Trust me, once you've seen somebody spit lava, or turn into a giant fox, blood-drinking and enhanced senses and reflexes seem pretty negligible," Purple said with a smirk. The smirk turned into a slight wince all of a sudden, and he turned to glare at the bird sitting on his arm. The owl, holding his gaze, preceded to once again dig all of it's sixteen talons into the flesh of his arm, the condescending smug practically rolling off of it's feathers. Inwardly, Amadeus resigned himself to escorting yet another man to St Mungos; it was only a matter of time before this goading turned into a bloodbath.

"Shit," Purple hissed through gritted teeth. "We had a deal!"

"Maybe he needs a few _boundaries,_ " Red spoke up, his voice now cold and dry rather than the amiable no-nonsense tone from before. Then, gravity multiplied.

The air was suddenly thick and heavy with malice and there was a shifting sound. Tiny glimmering particles that looked like dust orbited in lazy drifts around the man and the room was filled with the cloying stench of congealed blood, Amadeus' nose screaming at him that the bland, unassuming man was the source.

"You will honour the deal," he continued. "Because I _cannot stand traitors._ "

Bram, the Strix, was staring with palpable fear in his eyes, wings hanging completely limp and claws now slack. The latter proved to be inadvisable, as Bram lost his balance and started to topple off of Purple's arm. Amadeus reached out and steadied the owl, the shock having rendered him temporarily incapable of flying. The feel of the air returned to normal and the gory scent disappeared, as though it was retreating and calming down.

"How much for the owl?" Claw's stupor was interrupted by the unexpected question from the being that had reeked of blood not moments before. He still wanted the Strix after... _that?!_

"He can have a second chance; hopefully he understands now that _I_ am the one in charge," Red stated smoothly, as if it was an everyday occurrence to outmatch a Strix in bloodthirst.

"Fifty galleons," Amadeus sighed. That's it; he was done. He was going to take a month's holiday starting tomorrow. Realising he was still holding 4.5kg of traumatised raptor, he deposited his feathered armful inside a carrying cage. Seeing that Purple was cautiously probing his arm, he warily asked the man if he needed medical assistance. The answer he received was a shake of the hard and a "I can heal it myself later."

The next few events passed almost unnaturally smoothly. The galleons exchanged hands and the two men left the shop, carrying cage in hand. Amadeus Claw watched them go.

"So we fin'lly say goodbye ta the old butcher bird," Ezekiel chuckled.

"Your shift finished a while ago Ezekiel," Amadeus huffed. "You didn't have to linger to keep an eye on me, you know I can take can of myself. I saved your...'"

"My ol' daddy from tha' poaching gang on ta Yucatan Peninsula, I know. I've heard ta story so many times. I was jus' curious; stuck aroun' ta see what would happen."

"...Thank you, I know you meant well. But you can go now they're gone."

As Ezekiel left the shop, Amadeus set a 'Ring for Attention' sign on the desk and went through the 'Staff-Only' door and through another door into his small suite of rooms that he had lived in stayed in since the Shop's opening, as being a Vampire under the current laws, he wasn't allowed to buy or own property. He needed to call someone; his little _maggiore averla_ would enjoy this information.

Amadeus Serafino 'Claw' Artiglio Zabini knelt down at the fireplace and tossed in a handful of Floo powder before calling out the name of his great-niece; "Angelique Calogera Artiglio Zabini!"

* * *

Padfoot sank his teeth into the mouse and swallowed it in a single gulp. Finally, he was out of Azkaban. He had tracked the last of his two remaining pack members(the rat-traitor didn't count) down and now he was so close. The people inside the house seemed to be in the swing of a dinner party, so he didn't dare knock at this time. He had found a nice alleyway to sleep in, one that had a nest of tasty mice. He didn't dare transform back into a human either, for fear that someone would recognise him; he didn't have a wand in order to cast any glamours.

He would find some way to talk to his Pup tomorrow. He had waited all these years, he could wait another night.

* * *

 **Here, the timeline has changed by one day. Harry didn't respond to Aunt Marge, so he didn't blow her up, run, get scared by Padfoot and summon the Knight Bus. He will still get out of No.4 Privet Drive.**

 **'Averla' means 'Shrike' and 'maggiore' can mean 'more important' or a military rank of leadership. And I did mention in chapter 8 that Angelique had networks.**

 **On a side-note bit of trivia, some fanfics have made the link of Severus Snape's first name coming from an Emperor of Ancient Rome. Well, the derivatives 'Severin', 'Severino' and 'Severo' still exist today and the meanings of all three names, and by extension the name 'Severus', are 'austere/grim'. That certainly sounds like the Severus Snape we all know.**


	12. The Strategy

**Yes, a Strix is a legitimate mythical animal. And pretty badass. And Bram will be an important character. I'm glad people like Hedwig's characterization, because I always though she needed more character development(even though I was still _very_ upset when she died).**

 **I know that lots of people are waiting on tenterhooks for Naruto to show up. Well, I can guarantee that he will show up in a bit and continue to do so, but he's only going to be a supporting character in this fic. Still plenty of leeway for shenanigans though. And Shikamaru will be a main character in this, just keep waiting, please?**

 **And I am going to try and redeem Petunia. Slightly.**

 **Filler-ish chapter ahead, with more Gaara and Kankuro. Brotherly fluff ahead. Oh, and it's a fact of life that siblings fight. That writing sibling fights while keeping them in-character and not-cliché is easy, is not. Also: Feels!**

Bram stared at both of his new owners. It started out just like all the other times. An idiot wants to keep him, he mauls them, back to the cage; he retains his status as being above all the rest. Only the blood-human went unharmed, because he was skilled but deferent.

These things were different. One in particular was so far above his league it wasn't even funny. They had both appeared the same as all the others, if a little bit smarter, since they had ascertained his intelligence from the get-go. Still, they were worthless; once he was out of his cage, he would rend them to shreds and that would be that.

Then that one revealed his true nature. The aura of bloodlust was so palpable it seemed as if the human was dripping in the stuff and it had an actual scent! Scent meant the blood was real, meant that this human really did have that much blood on his hands, meant that this _human_ was _dangerous._

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. The words the two spoke to each other; they were brothers, nest-mates. And he had hurt the first and broken the deal, of course the other would be mad. His contemplation on his own Dumb actions increased when both dropped their hiding-spells. The one who had found him first, the one he had hurt, wore black all over like a carrion bird and his eyes were sharp like one. The one who's aura dripped red was literally the same as him; red-crested with black-rimmed eyes, the point only driven home by the crimson jacket. Idly, Bram wondered if the colour was dye, or mimicking the life he had spilled; like his own feathers did.

* * *

"Petunia Dursley," Gaara mused as he lay on his hotel bed watching a thin trickle of sand circle lazily above him. "Technically, she's my Aunt, yet, Harry's confession...do you have any ideas on how to go about this?"

"If I said I was as torn as you were, I'd be lying," Kankuro said idly as he sat on his own bed, scribbling notes on a piece of paper, "I say take Harry out of there and get him to Suna; he can still make the trip to his school. Even so, I will be getting answers about that Basilisk."

"We don't know all the facts yet Kankuro, there could be reasons for it."

"Hatred of anything different seems a pretty obvious reason, and you saw what it's done to him, I know you did! There's hate, but it's for himself, not anyone else, because it's being driven into his head that he has no place in this world and if he does, it's as some painted puppet dressed in the glory and mistakes of other people. He needs to get out of there, Gaara."

"I know," came the whispered response. "But mother didn't hate me, so what if it's the same here?"

"Fujin-kami-sama, Uzumaki's really rubbed off on you, hasn't he? When did you get into giving second chances?"

"When I think the people I'm giving them to, deserve it," Gaara replied, his voice terse as he swung his legs off of the bed and stood up. "Don't make me pull rank, Kankuro."

"Don't ignore me, _Kazekage-sama_! It's my job, both as Head of the Puppeteer Corps _and_ your older brother, to advise you and I am not going to fail in my duties!"

"I know," came the reply, unexpectedly whispered. "You're always there, always supporting me. You gave me a second chance when I didn't deserve it."

Kankuro had always been observant, so it didn't take long for him to see the reasoning behind that last remark. He stood up as well. "Shut up, Gaara. I'm not a nice person, I'm not. I'm a selfish, jealous bastard who's killed innocent people and not the sort of person you want to be like."

"Hah!" Came a sharp bark of laughter and Gaara seized his wrist. "Too late for that! I was selfish and jealous with a generous helping of murderous, you know how many innocents I've slaughtered and I'm an actual bastard, unlike you; I was born broken and there's no point in saying things like that."

"Exactly," he murmured, prying his brother's fingers from his wrist and into a proper handhold, squeezing it gently. "I made myself this way but you never had that choice. You deserved that second chance."

They stood like that for a moment, hands interlaced and leaning against each other so their body weight was shared between them. Most people would have jumped at completely the wrong conclusions at the sight; given their own experiences they would see only the romantic implications of the posture. To a shinobi or anyone raised with knowledge of that culture, the sight would convey a much broader spectrum as well as have a much deeper meaning.

Hands were vital to shinobi. The loss of one to a civilian would be devastating, yes, but most things in their lives could be accomplished with just one hand and added effort and patience. Shinobi needed hands for handsigns, taijutsu and in the case of Puppeteers, their puppetry. The loss of a hand would mean the loss of a career to a shinobi; to be left bored and aimless and lost in a fully-functioning, if slightly reduced, body.

Shinobi would never hold or shake hands if they could help it. One strong squeeze from either party could result in crushed, sometimes irreparably, fingers for the other. The palms, with the blood vessels close to the surface, were ideal for spreading a contact-based poison. It was incredibly easy for one to hold and throw the other in a single move. It was considered something of a faux pas to offer a handshake to a shinobi, depending on the context of the situation. In some situations, it inferred naivety; in others, absolute trust. You were, essentially, putting your life and livelihood in the hand of the other person; romantic attachment had nothing to do with it. That latter reason was why a single, nonverbal handshake between Gaara and Naruto had been enough to strengthen the alliance of Suna and Konoha whereas doing it through meetings and correspondence would have taken months.

"So, still think I shouldn't give Petunia Dursley a chance to explain herself?"

"Yep."

"Kankuro..."

"I'm not gonna stop you if that's want you want to do though, Kazekage-sama."

"Thank you. And I keep telling you, you don't have to call me that."

"But it annoys you and it's my solemn duty as your big brother to stop your ego getting too big."

They pulled away from each other, the moment past and everything said. They both sat back on their respective beds, Kankuro picking up his pen and paper from off the floor where they had fallen. A knock at the window distracted them as they looked up and saw a Suna messenger hawk on the windowsill.

"I'll get it," Gaara sighed as he rose and walked over to the window. "It's either Baki or Temari; that's one of the Jounin-use hawks."

"It better be an update report and nothing else," Kankuro groaned. "If I have to pick up after Junji when we get back because he's made a mess of my Corps while I left him in charge, I'm going to be the opposite of happy."

"At least you've only got the Corps to worry about," Gaara snorted as the hawk settled on his left arm while he shut the window with his right. "I've got the whole Village. Seriously; shinobi get stereotyped as grim-faced, clinical assassins, but most of them put hyperactive five-year-olds to shame, especially when they're off-duty."

The scroll turned out to be two pressed tightly together. Gaara scanned the names first of all. "One's from Baki, the other is Temari. Which one should I read first?"

Kankuro flopped backwards dramatically, lying spread-eagled on the bed. "Baki first then, get all the grisly stuff out the way."

 **Godaime Kazekage-sama,**

"Oooh, full title; he's pissed off," Kankuro winced.

 **Firstly, wider matters. According to the borders, some of the more ambitious caravans have been making enquiries about when usual shinobi hiring service will be resumed. The Tadayou Sakyuu have said to expect them for the Winter Storm Festival as usual and they also send their well-wishes.**

"Bloody hell, we haven't got the Marketplace fixed yet and the stables are still structurally unsound. At least the Genin will be busy...'"

 **The Daimyou has been hinting that he would like you to visit the Capital as soon as possible but judging from the tone of the letters, we could safely stall for a couple of months.**

"Bugger."

 **In addition, the re-opening of the Sadako Route Trade agreement finally went through.**

"Meh, that's two done now; six to go."

 **Now, to Village matters.**

"Here we go...'"

 **The hunter-nin have been picking up various nuke-nin as per their job, but the T &I department doesn't have room, since there's been a wave of Mirage Sickness(see ftn) among the already-detained prisoners and the departments lower levels are therefore on quarantine and the hospital don't know if they should waste their resources on prisoners when we have all our own shinobi still injured from the war.**

"Please tell me they didn't what I think they did..."

 **The hunter-nin decided to not continue capturing nuke-nin and let the ones they had already captured go, although after the first lot started harassing some shepherds and were subsequently re-captured, they've been dumping them in either the Demon Desert or Jonin training grounds 19-45.**

"Idiots! Bloody idiots the lot of them! There's a reason we never feed the worms so much all at once!"

 **As punishment, I fined the lot of them the cost of a C-rank each; I didn't re-assign them, since they're our only border force at the minute. However, I need your signature on the dilemma about the hospital and clearing the quarantine.**

"Thank goodness Baki has a brain. And at least both of those issues can wait until we get back."

 **On another note, Junji Adachi managed to pick a fight with the Tsuda Triplets.**

"Oh no...nonononono...'"

 **I managed to talk them down from sabotaging the Puppet Corps' training grounds;**

"Thank you,Baki, _thank you!"_

 **they did settle instead for stripping him to his boxers, shaving his hair, dangling him upside-down from the ceiling of the Jonin lounge and genjutsu-ing him into thinking he was a randy bat. I did procure pictures.**

"Awesome."

 **Various departments have also asked that yes, they know the next tech-upgrade mission to the Outside is only a few months away, but can you please pick out some good films. The Greenhouse staff would also like a variety of garden herb seeds. All departments send an IOU, with promise to reimburse you when you get back.**

"Good grief, what are we? A Genin team on a D-rank?"

 **Speaking of which, the Corps say they should have the theatre equipment fixed in a few days, so movie nights should be back on quite soon.**

"Oh, that'll be nice."

 **On a personal note, I am drowning in paperwork, chugging aspirin and coffee like water and trying to ignore a migraine that feels like my skull is splitting at the seams!**

"Hoo boy...'"

 **Please don't take too long, Kazekage-sama, I don't think I can keep this up much longer!**

 **Baki, Jonin of Sunagakure no Sato.**

"Poor Baki," Kankuro muttered.

Gaara hummed in agreement; "we should buy him something nice, really."

"Quality alcohol's always a safe bet for a gift," Kankuro chipped in.

"Temari's letter now." Gaara said, unrolling the second scroll.

 **Gaara, Kankuro,**

 **Look, I know you're going to be back soon, but please send a letter now.**

"She wants all the details."

 **Not only do I want to know every little detail,**

"Called it."

 **but Shikamaru seems to have decided he wants to figure out what's going on.**

"Right; Nara. I thought it was the Yamanaka who like interrogation though?"

 **At least tell me if I can tell him right away or if you want to do the Kage thing and reveal the big secret yourself. Speaking of which, I'm assuming you'll want to tell Naruto Uzumaki as well.**

"Oh yeeaahh; best friends and all. Right, Gaara?"

"..."

 **And for Fujin-kami-sama's sake, I want pictures! Tell Kankuro not to give me bullshit excuses, I know he keeps a disposable camera on him.**

"Okay, now I want answers as to how she knew that!"

 **Tell him I knew that from our third C-rank together; he photographed that cipher tablet because we couldn't take it.**

"Oooohhh; yeah, now I remember."

 **Take care you two,**

 **Temari.**

The small silence that followed was broken only by the sound of paper as the two messages were neatly rolled up again.

Before either could think of something to say, a third party, that had been silent so far, made their presence known. The two shinobi jerked their heads at the sound of a cautious hoot, their eyes fixing on Bram.

"Oh, finally settled down, have you?" Kankuro asked, rising to his feet. "Made up your mind about coming with us yet? And have you acknowledged how completely stupid you were back in the shop?"

The answer was a self-deprecatory huff and a weary rumble, before a quick two nods. "Excellent! You can come out of that cage now, as long as you don't attack the messenger hawk." Another nod. The cage was unlocked, the door opened and Bram flew out, but settled on the footboard of one of the beds.

"Since we didn't even get to the introductions last time, let's get them done now," Gaara said as he signalled the messenger hawk that it didn't have to perch on his arm anymore. It swept down and stood on the chest of drawers, next to Bram's cage.

"I'm Kankuro, Gaara's big brother. Puppet Master, which probably won't mean much to you. Head of the Puppet Corps, so I'm a commander, basically. My line of work means I'm also partly a teacher and craftsman-slash-mechanic."

"I am Gaara, of the Sand Waterfall. I am the Kazekage, which means I am the overall commander and ruler of an entire semi-military installation. I am known for my former unstable mind, being a former demon host, my young age for my position and," The sand he had been levitating before rose up from the floor where it had fallen, "my sand-manipulating abilities."

The Strix's eye seem fixed on the stream of particles coalescing around his form. The large yellow orbs tracked it even as it condensed and poured into the stone bottle on Gaara's left hip.

Kankuro noticed the unusual fixation. "Do you think he can smell the blood on your sand?"

"It's possible," Gaara mused. "I know the scent becomes stronger when I'm agitated or sending out Killing Intent. He probably remembers it from when I subdued him."

"Speaking of blood, he's most likely hungry," said Kankuro as he pulled out a kunai and rolled up his sleeve. "Raw meat we can sort out in the morning but I can do blood. Ah, wait a minute." He laid down the kunai and went into the ensuite bathroom, coming back with a water glass. "I'm not letting your beak anywhere near my arm just yet, and I'm not getting blood all over the place."

A small slice from the kunai on the top of his lower arm, and blood began trickling into the glass.

"I meant to ask," Gaara interjected suddenly. "You said that you wanted him for study. What, specifically, did you mean by that?"

"Well, you know that Puppeteers have to study form and body before designing and crafting their first puppet?" Kankuro stopped the stream of blood with a pad of cotton, taping it onto his arm, before sealing the items back into a scroll that contained all his medical supplies.

"Yes, you were an exception to the rule if I remember; they gave you Sasori's puppets instead. I know that you keep some small animals in the compound for such study, but that includes birds, so why buy another?"

Kankuro set the half-full glass down on the chest of drawers, watching as Bram briefly took flight and resettled next to it. "Fluid limb co-ordination is the one thing that trainees consistently struggle with, especially with an unusual number of limbs. You have no idea how difficult controlling Crow was when I first started with him, since he has four arms. But since Bram here has a fully-functioning set of four legs, despite being a bird, I can use him as a living example."

"I see. I'll make sure to tell Temari and Baki that you picked up a new pet," Gaara said in understanding. "I'm just going to pop down to reception to get some paper so I can get started on that letter."

"I'm going downstairs too, there's a bar in the next building over. You coming?"

"No, I'm going to finish these letters. Somebody needs to keep an eye on the birds."

"Okay. But knowing our luck, some random nuke-nin will show up and storm the hotel, so I'm getting downtime when I can."

An hour later, Kankuro re-entered the room. "They have a television screen with the news in the bar, and guess what's the number one story? There's an escaped mass-murderer on the loose, name of Sirius Black. Famous for killing thirteen people with an explosion. Why does this shit always happen near us? I blame that Naruto Uzumaki."

* * *

 **Footnote: Mirage Sickness is a highly contagious disease and one of the few shinobi-only viruses. Treatable only by the appropriate medication or waiting it out, since it affects chakra and is spread through using non-elemental jutsu(iryo-jutsu, chakra-shaping jutsu, etc.) on another person.  
It messes with the chakra in the brain, creating vivid hallucinations. The only real danger is that shinobi can mistakenly attack their comrades or simply be unaware of an enemy attack. Without medication, the effects last proportionate to the amount of chakra a shinobi has, but wear off once the victim collapses from chakra exhaustion. Death is actually rare. **

* * *

***Giggles* Sorry, you're all pretty frustrated that I haven't got to Sirius in this chapter. Well, consider this build-up. At the moment, all Gaara and Kankuro know is that Sirius is the unfriendly neighbourhood mass-murderer, they don't know he's even a wizard yet.**

 **Also, I wanted to take the time to establish that Sunagakure is inhabited by shinobi. And considering how Konoha shinobi are, I imagine that similar shenanigans happen in Suna as well. Also, Kankuro's running commentary was so fun to write.**

 **Query**

 **Does anyone actually know why Kankuro tends to be portrayed in fanfiction as stupid/possibly gay/crossdressing, even in serious fics? If he's being teased, I get that, but what about his canon character resembles those things?**

 **When I watched Naruto and saw his Chunin preliminaries fight; he crushed the bones of his opponent, who had just yielded, with a grin and a quip. The only flaw I picked up was that he either goes overkill from the start(was about to use Crow on Sasuke when we first saw him) or underestimates his opponent(comment from Baki during Chunin preliminaries). Personality wise, he seems quite sly and introspective; when Baki tells them that there'll be an invasion of Konoha, he's not shocked like Temari or stoic like Gaara, but seems to be planning already.  
That might just be me, but that's how I see him.**

* * *

 **OMAKE: Completely Unnecessary**

* * *

"Hey, Gaara?"

"No."

"I didn't ask my question yet?"

"No, we are not doing the whole Kage rigmarole, complete with full honour guard and fancy robes, to reveal this to Shikamaru Nara, just so you have an excuse to loom darkly behind me, or him, in a menacing manner and scare the proverbial shit out of him, for the fifth time."

"Bugger."

"Why do you insist on trying to scare him when we've already given him the 'shovel talk' about Temari?"

"Demonstrating that I'm not going to be lax on keeping up my end of the deal."

"You are perfectly aware of the fact that Temari is a war veteran, the strongest wind affinity Suna has had in half a century and not the type to meekly submit to anything? And also that she's friends with at least one-fifth of the Jonin and Chunin population of Suna and on good terms with two-fifths? Which means that should Shikamaru Nara be so phenomenally stupid as to try anything with her, which considering his clan is highly unlikely, the only reason you wouldn't have to get in line is because you're her brother and therefore get a free pass to the front of the queue."

"...You make it sound so unnecessary. But you're just as worried about her as I am!"

"It is unnecessary, since only five Sand Burials should be enough."

"Five? Last I checked, there was only one Shikamaru Nara."

"One for each limb and the last for his groin area."

"..."

"And I will have iryo-nin on standby so he will be conscious for each and will live afterwards for him to regret his actions."


	13. The Confrontation

**Apologies for the long wait, but this chapter was a struggle to write. M** **aybe it's because it's chapter 13 and also a pivotal 'reveal' point in the story...damn it Life.**

 **Quick Q &A**

 **TrenchcoatMan:** How would a veteran 4th war shinobi handle the Imperius and the Cruciatus?

 **Answer:** Well, depends on which shinobi, obviously; we saw a range of ages in the 4th war, and many of those shinobi would have been old enough to have fought in the 3rd war. More experience would mean a higher pain threshold and greater control over some aspects of the mind.

Imperio can be thrown off, which brings us to what the requirements for that are. Harry had a strong stubborn streak, but he also had no Occlumency/mind arts training, knew it was on him and it was a pretty harmless order he was told to do. Shinobi are also stubborn, given the fact that none of them are going to want to give up control of their body and even more so if the curse is used to make them turn against their Village and/or perform horrible acts they would never actually do. Also, I suspect that all shinobi are given some sort of mental training so they won't crack under pressure/interrogation easily(e.g. compartmentalisation). That probably counts as Occlumency.  
Conclusion, it depends on how much experience under pressure the shinobi has had, but I imagine by the time a shinobi is Chunin-level(had first-kill, done a variety of C-ranks, loyal to Village), they could throw off a mid-level Imperious with reasonable effort.

Crucio, it seems, is a spell you can hold someone under for an indefinite amount of time once the initial bolt has hit them. The caster has to really mean it, and I'm going to say that, because of that, the amount of pain caused is proportionate to the amount of intent. The closest shinobi equivalent is Killing Intent, which seems more mind/trauma based rather than shredding nerve endings. So, if Bellatrix(for example, because she throws that spell around like Santa Claus spreads Christmas cheer) hit an average Jounin with it and held it for, let's say 30 seconds, they definitely wouldn't be able to tank it, but they would have enough self-control not to scream or writhe on the floor too much. After that, they could probably get right back up fighting again, since damaged nerves wouldn't really stop their muscles moving and some shinobi seem to easily ignore crippling injuries in favour of getting the mission done/getting out of there (Kimimaro, Deidara, etc). If the cruciatus was used in a torture scenario, well, it depends on the shinobi in question.

 **Now that's over, thank you to all who answered my little query from last chapter. And _Kingdark_ asked that I not have any potential bodyguards go to Hogwarts as students. Fear not! That won't be happening in my fic. I have nothing against the actual concept, I just hate how in the wide majority of them, the 'transfers' end up spilling their heart and souls out to various Hogwarts students. One exception is** Silent Humanity **, where Gaara is transported to Hogwarts, mute, confused and very, very cross.**

 **The clinic mentioned below was made up on the spur of the moment and any similarities to any real-life counterparts are completely incidental.**

"Psst. Harry?"

Harry burrowed his head back into the pillow; "G'way R'n."

In response, someone flicked him in the forehead. He bolted upright immediately, scrabbling for his glasses. When he finally got them on, he saw Kankuro and Gaara sitting on the end of his bed. He looked at the clock and groaned. "It's half-six in the morning, why are you waking me up an hour early?"

"We-ell, Gaara and I were chatting last night," Kankuro started, "since you and he share a mother, your Aunt Petunia is his aunt as well. But of course, she's partly responsible for your mistreatment, so I wanted to just take you and go. But no, because Gaara here's got into giving second chances."

"Oh," Harry realised. Of course; Aunt Petunia was related to Gaara as well. But, well, Aunt Petunia was…Aunt Petunia.

"So," Gaara went on, "are we correct in thinking that you want to get out of this house, and the Dursley family will want you gone as well?"

"Yes!" Harry blurted out as soon as he processed the question. "I mean, I don't want to live here anymore, if you're offering that is!"

"Well, of course we're offering," Kankuro smirked. "But, dubious as her reputation is, we still need to clear it with Petunia Dursley. I don't foresee it being a problem though, given what we know so far."

"I'll help in any way I can, if it means getting out of here," Harry said, flinging back his bed covers. "What do you need me to do?"

* * *

The phone rang. Petunia Dursley looked up from rearranging the photographs on the hallway table and went to answer it. Vernon had taken Dudders, Marge and Ripper out for a drive and wouldn't be back until dinner, and she certainly didn't trust that nephew of hers to answer it.

"Dursley residence, Mrs Petunia Dursley speaking," she chirped, "Who is this and how may I help you?"

"Mrs Dursley, I'm calling because I'd like to drop by at some point today to discuss a rather personal matter which would be somewhat awkward to have over the phone," came a cool male voice.

"No thank you," Petunia replied, a hint of frost creeping into her voice. "Not until you tell me who you are and what this is about."

There was a small sigh from the other end of the line and a shuffling of paper. "Sixteen years ago, the private London clinic named St. Mary's Prenatal Health Clinic was contracted by my late father to provide IVF treatment for my mother, who was unable to conceive after an unfortunate accident. According to law, any child resulting from IVF must be notified of the identities of their donor parents once they come of age. And…well, I don't know how else to say this, but my donor mother was Lily Evans, later Potter."

The phone receiver shook in Petunia's fingers. "You…you're…'"

"Your nephew and the half-sibling to Lily Potter's son, Harry Potter," came the voice again. "As I said, it would be preferable to talk face-to-face. Since Harry was the first contact I could think of, we've already met. I just thought it prudent, and polite, to warn you of my existence instead of barging into your home or something…Are you alright? I think you should sit down, Mrs Dursley."

The last comment was prompted by the strangled, tearful hiccup from Petunia. Lily had had another child, long before the ungrateful boy who now lived in her house, and hadn't even told her! Not that she had really giver her reason to, though. God, she had been a horrible sister, hadn't she? But when standing next to Perfect Lily, it was hard not to be.

"I…I'm fine," she affirmed. "If you still want to come around and talk then…you could come around just after lunch; 1 o'clock? But you'll have to be gone by 4, I'm afraid; my husband's family is visiting."

"That will be absolutely fine, Mrs Dursley," came the voice. "But I'm afraid it's not just me; my brother, my father's full son that is, decided to accompany me quoting moral support. I hope he won't be an inconvenience? If not, he can always stay here in the hotel…'"

"Oh no, it'll be fine," Petunia broke in, with a watery smile. "I'm sure meeting the both of you will be just lovely. But I must ask, what is your name?"

* * *

"You sense that?" Kankuro remarked, in the sign language of Suna's ANBU, as they both dropped their invisibility jutsu in an alleyway close to No.4 Privet Drive.

"Yes" Gaara replied, ceasing using spoken language for the moment as well. "Ninken, not Inuzuka. In bad shape as well. I can't sense any shinobi in the area though."

"Plan?"

"Leave it be for the moment. If it's still there when we leave, we can take care of it then."

The matter resolved for the moment, they both exited the alleyway and turned the corner onto the street proper. They walked on, counting the numbers until they got to the gate of No.4.

Just as they closed the garden gate behind them, the door to the house opened and Petunia Dursley stood in the doorway. There was some tenseness in her shoulders and she wore a smile, although a nervous one.

Gaara took a second to lock the two conflicting bonds of family deep inside his head and behind the mask of the polite smile of a guest professional. He took another second as he walked up the path to consider his next action and decided on compromise.

He held out his hand for his aunt to shake; "Mrs. Dursley. It is good to finally meet you." She took his hand and if she noticed the coarse texture of the plated combat gloves he had formed from his sand in half a second, she gave no indication.  
"Gaara, isn't it?" She asked hesitantly, stumbling over his name slightly, but smiling when he nodded his affirmation.

"Yes," he replied. "May I introduce my brother Kankuro?" Kankuro didn't put his hand forward to shake, simply half-raising his hand in a sort of wave. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us."

"Oh no, no trouble at all. Won't you please come in and have some tea?"

A few minutes later found all four of them - Gaara, Kankuro, Petunia and Harry - sitting around the living room sipping cups of tea and staring at a plate of shortbread sitting smugly on the coffee table. Harry looked wary, sitting as he was in an armchair; which was something of a miracle given that he was outside of the Gryffindor Common Room and in No.4 Privet Drive.

Setting his cup down on the table, Gaara reached into the satchel beside him on the floor and pulled out a folder. He held it out to Petunia; "The documents from the clinic, in case you wanted to look them over in person."

She took the folder and set it on her lap. "So," she started. "Were you as surprised as I was about this?"

"Maybe," they chorused, before looking at each other for a moment. "How surprised were you?" Gaara asked finally.

She fumbled with her fingers for a moment. "Lily never said anything, but by that point things were tense between us, so I guess that was why... Oh, what am I saying; she was never one to hold a grudge! She was probably trying to keep me out of that war...sorry, ignore my outburst."

"That would make sense," Kankuro nodded. "It might have gotten worse if anybody figured out Father had come here. Each side would have torn itself apart trying to get him to join them."

Petunia had paled; "You know about... _magic_?!" She squeaked. "A-are, are you...?"

"No," Gaara cut her off, seeing that she was close to panicking. "We use chakra, which is deeper and more primal, but still distantly related, to magic. Everyone has chakra; they simply need to activate it at a young age in order to use it. We keep tabs on the Magical Societies as a matter of preparedness, but have minimal contact."

"If it makes more sense," Kankuro chipped in, seeing her wavering. "What non-Magicals call ESP is actually subconscious and passive use of what little chakra they have."

The small bit of real-life science provided the necessary island for Petunia to cling to. "You can still do... _things..._ though?"

"My brother's being as stubborn as a prison wall in wearing his uniform, but is using an genjutsu, an illusion, to hide it."

The air around Kankuro flickered into black and grinning purple.

"I myself have a unique connection to sand. I don't think I've shown you this yet either, Harry." Cloudy tendrils of sand began creeping out from under his red coat and twirled in intricate patterns in mid-air. To Gaara's semi-amused disappointment, Harry looked sceptical; "That's it?" Harry blurted out.  
Kankuro couldn't help but snigger at the stunned look on Gaara's face.

The click of a camera shutter made both Gaara and Harry whirl round to see the Puppetmaster holding a cheap camera. "One for the album," he grinned, before it disappeared in a puff of smoke. "But seriously Harry, we live in a desert. Even without all the tricks Gaara can do with it, having control over the entire battlefield is one huge and terrifying advantage. And that's not all he can do...'"  
He was cut off by a poke from his brother; "Sshh. We don't do exposition, remember?"

"Baki-sensei rule No.5, I remember. Seriously, that man has the patience of a saint."

"Didn't you say he was your teacher?" Harry thought aloud. "I know you mentioned it."

"That's right; he was in the picture we sent you as well."

Harry fingered the edges of the photograph in the pocket of his baggy jeans in a few seconds of hesitation, before pulling it out and unfolding it. "Here," he muttered as he held it out to his Aunt. She took it, smoothing out the crease and running her eyes over the four people depicted. Her mouth twitched into an almost-smile. "I remember school photos as well," she said nostalgically. "They made everyone look awful and there was always one person who forgot to wear their jumper. At least your school is non-uniform, it seems. Is the girl your classmate?"

"That's Temari, their big sister," Harry jumped in, seizing the chance to one-up his Aunt. "She's really nice and asks me loads of questions about how I'm doing at...school."

Before another awkward silence could fall, Gaara cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "That reminds me. Sending letters by hawk might be the fastest way we have, but it's still very slow. So Kankuro and I went back to Diagon Alley last night and bought these." He pulled two black notebooks out of his pocket. "Write in one and it will show up in the other. Now we can communicate almost instantaneously." He held one out.

"Cool," Harry breathed. "But what if you're busy or something? And what if I'm in a class?"

"Just wait until evening, when you've finished classes. Or just write whenever you've got a spare moment. I don't work much in the day, so I should be free and I'll let you know beforehand if I don't want to be disturbed. Personally, I'm just hoping it works even through the Gate and that it won't be affected by chakra, but the shopkeeper did say...'"

The two became engrossed in conversation about the documented effects of chakra on magical objects and vice versa.

Meanwhile, Kankuro noticed that Petunia Dursley was pensive; clutching her teacup with bloodless fingers and glancing between Gaara and Harry as if expecting either of them to turn on her at any second. Ah, hell. He might as well make nice.

"Ma'am, you seem to be taking this rather calmly." She started a little.

"Yes, well, I didn't think screaming and causing a fuss would do anything. And he really does look a lot like Lily...I assume he also takes after his father?"

"Ah, some. Father had dark, reddish hair, which is why Gaara's is blood-red rather than a ginger red. And he has Father's ears and cheekbones. I'm the spitting image of Father, my hair's just a different colour. Temari takes after mother, but the set of her shoulders and her hands are all Father."

"He must be very proud of all of you."

Kankuro snorted. "He was a brilliant soldier. A good man? I don't know. A good father? No. At least Gaara got a chance to sort things out with him before he went."

Petunia returned her gaze to her teacup. "I'm sorry for your loss."

He waved away the platitude. "Never mind that. Instead, let's speak about Harry. He tells me you take care of him because he's family. Gaara's family as well, so why don't we look after him? It's not like you actually want him."

The atmosphere in the room reconfigured. As if an earthquake had shifted everything two feet to the left and not quite all the way back again. Both young men had not moved an inch, yet no longer seemed as if they were sitting relaxed in the company of friends, but rather as kings on their thrones, the air quivering with the serenity of their rage.

"We have already spoken with Harry and he has agreed to live with us. Nothing will change that." Blank eyes the colour of Lily's stared down at Petunia and the dry, rich voice descended from the equals of kings bored into her bones. "We are simply giving you the chance to explain yourself."

"I..." Harry's eyes caught hers. "Lily told me once that m-magicals can wipe memories; one word and you forget everything. That's how they stay hidden. She said that nobody would do it to me because she was a w-witch and I was family. But I thought 'she didn't know she was a w-witch before she went to that school and she made lots of fr-things happen before that. What if we both had our memories taken because she did things in front of Mum and Dad and we would never remember?' I was scared...I didn't want anyone to have tampered with my head but not one of them seemed to think anything of it. What if everything I remembered or did was fake?'"

She took a few gulps of air, her hands shaking. "When they left you on our doorstep, they explained everything; that you would be a target and they might come after us. They said that the man who murdered Lily still had people in their Ministry. Lily said that their Ministry kept tabs if any children used m-magic at home. What if you did magic and they found you? We had to be normal, blend in. We told you your parents died in a car crash because it would be easy for people to believe. We told you that magic wasn't real so you wouldn't try and show off the things you could do."

Harry's voice was icy as he spoke up. "What about the cupboard? Not giving me food? Letting Dudley beat me? Normal people don't do that."

"Vernon," Petunia mumbled, tears pooling in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just couldn't...I had to tell him about magic, how it could be passed down through the genes of normal people. He was so angry. He wouldn't even look at me because I might have freakishness in my blood. I went along with everything because I didn't want him to hate me...'"

"Enough."

She looked up at Gaara, tears staining her cheeks. He had stood up without a sound and now held himself in front of her nephew as if shielding them from each other. "I cannot blame you for being bitter and frightened. But I can condemn you for not standing up and saying 'no'. I hope you understand."

She bowed her head. "I do."

"Hey Harry, need help with your things?" Kankuro said as he got up. "We're leaving now, so take everything."

"You can't!" Petunia blurted out suddenly. "You won't be safe! Sirius Black is out there and he's a wizard! What if he comes after you?"

"Then he dies," Kankuro broke in. "It's that simple."

"Can...can I leave tomorrow?" Harry asked tentatively in the ensuing silence. He chanced a glance at his Aunt, then Kankuro and Gaara. "If I'm allowed, that is. Just...I found out so many things and...I'm still coming with you! I just want to...um...'"  
A black-clad arm circled comfortingly around his shoulders and pulled him a little closer into a matching chest.

"Wanting to say goodbye is okay kid," Kankuro said. "We'll hang around invisible until you go to sleep just in case you need to talk to us. We'll pick you up in the morning and take you out to breakfast."

"Goodbye for now, Mrs Dursley," Gaara said. "Thank you for the tea. See you tomorrow Harry. Kankuro." "Understood."

The door shut behind them. Harry looked uncertainly back at Aunt Petunia, then back at the front door. "Can I just...'"

"Go on," she said, dabbing at the eyes with a tissue. "Thank you, I...you have a good heart, Harry."

"I'll be back in a minute Aunt Petunia!" He walked quickly to the front door and ran down the path to fall in step beside his family.

* * *

"Where's Kankuro gone?" Harry asked as he and Gaara turned into an alleyway.

"There was a nin-animal lurking in the area when we arrived. We agreed that if it was still here when we left that that it wasn't a coincidence and we'd take it in for questioning."

"Thank you," Harry mumbled shyly. Gaara looked at him quizzically; "You're not talking about coming to live with us. What for?"

"Well, for telling me. It's none of my business and you didn't have to, so thank you for telling me what was going on."

"I wasn't being kind, Harry," Gaara said softly. "It was something you deserved to know, as it concerned you. You're being targeted, so you should know the relevant information so you can decide on the right course of action and trust those in the situation with you."

"It's just that, I ask people how I'm supposed to fight Voldemort or why I have to stay at the Dursley's and they never give me a reason, just that I should go along with it."

"Don't." Harry felt a hand take his and he looked up into his brother's eyes. "Never blindly follow someone. Keep thinking about and re-evaluating what they ask you to do. If they withhold information from you that you have the right to know, it could result in things going very wrong. Tell yourself that maybe they might be the ones in the wrong, and it's not just you being overly stubborn. Ask questions, push forward; always look underneath the underneath, to quote a famous shinobi."

Harry swallowed nervously. "Am I spoiled for wanting things to go right? Wanting you to stay and never go away?" He shut his eyes, dreading the response.

"Kid, even if you work hard at something and you're good at something, always pray for it to go right in case life is in the mood to screw someone over," Kankuro broke in without warning, making Harry open his eyes. "And we can't stay, but you are coming with us. You wanted family, it's only sensible to never want to let go when you get it. It's called being human, not spoiled."

"You got it, Kankuro?"

He held up the green-bordered scroll in his hand. "Yep. One ninken in a capture seal. It can stay in stasis until tonight."

* * *

"All I'm saying, Vernon," Marge belched, gesturing at Harry with her fork. "Is that you seem to have this one trained good and proper; knows when to be seen and not heard. Good on you!"

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but instead chose to share a baleful glance with Aunt Petunia. They had spent the rest of the afternoon amiably in the kitchen, conversing while preparing the dinner together. It had been a world shaking revelation to find out that his mum and Aunt Petunia had grown up playing with one Severus Snape; Snape, his greasy Potions Professor! She had signed his Hogsmeade permission slip, saying that she could at least do that, even if it didn't make up for everything.  
Uncle Vernon had even been quite amiable since she explained that Harry would be gone for good after tomorrow morning.

And now here they were at the dinner table, listening to Aunt Marge's burbling tirade. At least the meal was nearly over.

Then Harry stiffened at the sound of growling, and looked down at Ripper's slavering jaws. "Awww~," Aunt Marge cooed. "My darling baby wants to play with the runt and remind him of his place." There was a hungry light in her eyes as Harry began to slowly inch his legs to the side of the chair in preparation to bolt for the stairs.

"Marge, if Ripper bites my nephew, I will have to take him to hospital," Aunt Petunia broke in urgently. "You will be forced to put Ripper down and you know how much that would hurt you." Vernon was looking back and forth between his wife and his sister and Dudley seemed oddly pensive as he chewed his mouthful of food.

Marge considered for a moment, then reached out a pudgy hand to grab Ripper's collar. Ripper had other ideas, lunging forward with his drooling maw open. Harry could only cross his arms in front of his neck and face and wish that something would stop the dog. He _wished_ and he felt something deep inside him _pull._

The only thing that happened was a strangled scream from Marge as there was the sound of a heavy bulldog falling to the floor. Harry relaxed his arms and looked down. Ripper had no mouth and no legs, his beady eyes wide and rolling with fear as he squirmed on the floor. There was no blood; Ripper had been partially transfigured.

There were two simultaneous whooshing sounds as Gaara and Kankuro appeared. Kankuro poked the squirming dog-loaf with his foot; "Ooh, nasty. Remind me to never make you angry Harry."

* * *

 **Dammit Kankuro, why do you practically write yourself? At least I got past some of the self-recrimination Harry has. I'm looking forward to writing next chapter, I can tell you. It's one of the scenes I've been planning since ages, because writing people as 'oh shit, this guy is not to be messed with' when they meet Gaara is fun.**

 **So...thoughts on Aunt Petunia redemption in this chapter?**

 **Feel free to ask more questions about my headcanon universe interactions such as the one at the top of the chapter.**

 **And shit, this story is popular! Just remember that authors live on reviews containing praise, questions and constructive criticism, not just ones that are 'Great! Write more!"**

 **Since people liked Baki's interlude so much, how would you feel about a collection of Baki and Suna -centric drabbles as a separate story? Canon-compliant, just fleshing out some of the background for Stairs of Sand and possibly canon. Also because I want a proper insane Gaara fic that portrays him like canon did when he was first introduced.**

 **I can promise that it will include lots of Baki, cultural headcanons(like the reservoirs), possible sprinkling of Rasa and some Sand Sibling and Gaara-solo missions.**


	14. The Foreigners

**The Baki drabbles are now posted as the story Hourglass, due to the overwhelming love people seem to have for him.**

 **In response to the like of Kankuro and the in-universe questions, there will now be 'Ask Kankuro' Omakes. Hopefully that will distract from the fact that Harry won't be in Suna until Christmas because I thought the Aunt Marge thing was a week before term not a month and I loosely planned out a whole timeline that I'm keeping because I like it OH LOOK SHIKAMARU AND TEMARI ARE IN THIS CHAPTER!...**

Amelia Bones Apparated in front of No.4 Privet Drive with a loud crack, Aurors Scrimgour and Ruthers just behind her. She supposed it was only good sense to have the best in the Department watching the Boy-Who-Lived in case of attacks by former Death Eaters and other You-Know-Who sympathizers.

Contrary to expectations, however, the Muggle House was quiet, peaceful and undisturbed. She heard her two companions muttering spells for detection, before Scrimgour murmured "Four Muggles, one underage Wizard, most likely Harry Potter. Readings are fuzzy on the last two, but they seem to be wizards with strong nature affinities."

Madame Bones sighed deeply. "No reason to be impolite; keep wands at the ready and we'll knock at the door."

The front garden was traversed without incident and Amelia rapped sharply at the front door. A tapping of feet was heard, the bolt slid back and a thin-faced Muggle woman opened the door. "Are you here about Harry's accident?"

"Yes ma'am. And you are?" Amelia asked.

"Mrs. Petunia Dursley, Harry Potter's maternal aunt. And who are you?" Was the curt reply. "You could be one of those Death Eater people for all I know."

Taken aback at the woman's defensive attitude; the team sent last year when she was off sick hadn't mentioned this in their report; Amelia snapped open her badge, Scrimgour and Ruthers following her lead. "Madame Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Aurors Rufus Scrimgour and William Ruthers. I lost my brother and his wife to Death Eaters; I am not one of them. I can vouch similar stories for my two men."

The three were objected to a close scrutiny. "Alright, you can come in. But no waving your sticks around, I've got guests and they won't look too kindly on being threatened." Curiosity piqued, Madame Bones led her men over the threshold.

As they walked down the hallway, Ruthers picked up on it first. "That hissing...sounds like a giant hourglass." They turned into a living room and did their best not to gape.

A young man with crimson hair and in an armoured coat and trousers the colour of blood sat in an armchair, another man with a painted face in a black hood standing at his side. Petunia Dursley walked over and sat on a sofa on which a large and portly Muggle man was sitting next to an insensate Muggle woman of equal size. Harry Potter himself sat pale on another armchair.

"Good evening, Bones-buchō," said the man in red. "As you are no doubt aware, we have a situation."

She eyed him warily. "We received an alert, so yes, I am aware. Mind telling us what in Merlin's name is going on?"

"I'm sorry!"

The three of them turned to Harry Potter, who was shaking like a leaf in the wind. "I didn't mean to, I was...I was scared and I wished and it just happened and I don't know why, I'm not that good at Transfiguration and...and...'"

"Harry? Harry, look at me," the red man interrupted, cutting through the panic attack before it could begin. "Look at me. That's it. Listen to me when I say that you did nothing wrong."

They blinked and suddenly he was crouched in front of the Boy-Who-Lived, holding his hands. Scrimgour made to move forwards and break it up, but a sharp glare from the painted man made them stop short.

"Nothing. Wrong. It was a mistake, a lapse in judgement, but you can learn from it. Breathe, breathe slowly for me. In...out...in...out...there we go, it's okay."

He stood abruptly, turning to face the DMLE operatives. "Harry was about to be attacked by a dog and in a state of panic he vanished it's limbs and sealed it's mouth shut," he said in an undertone. "Unfortunately, the particular breed of dog is physically incapable of breathing through it's nose and it duly suffocated. He is understandably distraught. The body was left in the dining room and we all removed ourselves to this room; feel free to examine the body."

Amelia nodded at Ruthers and he vacated the room in search of the deceased animal. She turned back to the group. "From the explanation of affairs, I presume that Mr Potter did not use a wand or artefact in any way?" A muted chorus of head shakes. "A clear-cut case of accidental magic. Unusual for Mr Potter's age, but not unheard of. But what I do want to know is who you two are. This is a Muggle neighbourhood so it's unexpected to see two wizards here, not to mention you seem very familiar with Mr Potter."

"I am Gaara, and this is my brother Kankuro," he stated mildly. "We were making a social visit to Harry Potter and Mrs Dursley, so we were still nearby when we sensed something amiss. We came back here immediately and contained the situation before emotions ran too high."

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "Keep in mind that you had no authority to do that, but we do appreciate the assistance. How exactly did you 'contain the situation'?"

Before the conversation could continue any further, Scrimgour raised his wand at Vernon Dursley and sent "Finite Incantatem" It would have flown true, had not an invisible force jerked the tip of his wand upward so that the spell splashed harmlessly against the ceiling. He let out a muffled yelp as something tightened around his ankles; he looked down to see sand.

"Scrimgour, explain yourself!" Bones barked, wary of the cold stare being laid upon her subordinate by the man Gaara.

"T-the Muggle was bound by some sort of spell, I was just going to release him but my wand...'"

"Ah, sorry, that would be me," came a voice, and the painted man stepped forward into the spotlight, bearing an amiable grin. "Things were threatening to get a little hairy when Gaara and I arrived, so I've been keeping Mr Dursley tied to the sofa. I didn't know why you were pointing your wand at him, so I made sure it wasn't aimed at him any more. I'm also the one who sedated Miss Marge Dursley, that's why she's asleep."

That explained why Mr Dursley had neither moved nor spoken and the woman had remained unconscious throughout. Nonetheless, Amelia felt the approach a little heavy handed.

"Mr Dursley, I understand that you may be wary of our presence, but everything should take no more than another ten minutes to clear up; we beg your patience." She turned to the stranger. "If you would please release whatever spell you cast?"

She watched closely, hoping to get a good look at whatever wand or alternative focus he used, but was both disappointed and impressed when he merely flicked his fingers and the Muggle relaxed where he sat. Before he stood up.

"I'm going upstairs to check that my son is in bed," he said through gritted teeth. "You get your ten minutes, then I see neither hide nor hair of your kind for the rest of my life, understood?" Without waiting for any affirmation, he stormed through the door into the hallway, pausing only to throw a sneer to the returning Auror Ruthers, before heading up the stairs.

"Dog suffocated from partial Transfiguration, Director, just as Mr Gaara said," Ruthers reported. "It's a pet, so any instructions on the disposal of the remains?"

"My sister-in-law, it's her dog, doesn't know about...magic," Mrs Dursley spoke up. "she got all hysterical, that's why Kankuro...thank you for that." Kankuro waved it off; "Don't mention it. The particular dose of the toxin I used should wear off in the next six minutes or so, so think of something quick."

Who used _poisons_ instead of stunners any more? Bones pondered briefly, before turning her mind to the problem at hand.

"Director Bones, ma'am?" Ruthers said tentatively. "I was a licensed Obliviator before I transferred and I'm still qualified to alter memories." Mrs Dursley flinched, which didn't go unnoticed, but he continued. "After reversing the Transfiguration, I can make her remember that her dog had a heart seizure and collapsed accordingly. When she wakes she will remember fainting with the shock."

"Good thinking Ruthers, get on it." He moved over to the woman accordingly.

"Can somebody get this sand off of me?" Scrimgour snapped.

Before anyone could reply, the tight casing dissolved into individual grains and flowed upwards, coiling around the red-clad arms of Gaara and down into the neck of a sandstone bottle on his hip.

"You're welcome," he smirked.

Amelia felt her gut instinct react; something she'd forgotten...there it was!

"You both said your names, but _who_ are you?" She asked. "Where are you from, what do you do, how do you do this sort of magic?"

There was something...something shifted and suddenly Amelia was trapped face-to-face with a predator the likes of those ranked XXXXX by the Ministry. There were no threatening gestures or body language, not even any promise of death or suffering in the sea-glass eyes. Just the inimitable feeling of a carnivore who thought her interesting enough that it would wait until it was hungry before killing her.

In the back of her head, she knew she didn't even feel the same about Dumbledore, despite the man being the most powerful wizard she knew. Because she knew Dumbledore, knew how he would react and that any harm he did was a side-effect of his 'Greater Good'.

This was purposeful, raw and voraciously benign and the colour red seemed so very apt a cloak.

The hooded crow of a man stepped forward. "Director Bones, allow me to introduce Gaara. Fifth Wind-Shadow of the Village Hidden in the Sand, Former Jinchuuriki of Shukaku the One-Tailed Tanuki, Shadow-ruler of the Land of Wind and all it's Territories, the Mad Child of the Devouring Sand and former Commander of the Allied Forces."

The brains of the three Aurors stuttered to a halt and Amelia felt sweat begin to bead on her brow as the words 'ruler' and 'commander' rattled in her head. Before she could open her mouth to say...something, Lord Gaara waved his hand dismissively.  
"It's fine, I don't expect you to bow since I'm not here in my official capacity. Kankuro here, accompanying me as my aide, is my older brother, Eldest Son of the Fourth Wind-Shadow, Master Puppeteer, Head of the Puppeteer Corps and Caretaker of the Puppeteer Troupe, also known as the Grinning Husk."

"Um," gulped Ruthers. Madame Bones and Scrimgour sympathised, just silently.  
"Perhaps we should move this outside?" She interjected. "Miss Dursley will wake soon now that Ruthers has finished."

"Agreed," Lord Gaara assented. He turned to the rest of the room's occupants. "Mrs Dursley, I thank you for you hospitality, but perhaps it would be best if Harry vacated the house now instead of tomorrow morning." The thin Muggle woman nodded.  
"Good. Kankuro, help Harry with his things and meet us at the park down the road."

The Aurors followed Lord Gaara out of the house, Amelia holding her tongue until the group of four reached the silent wooded area.

"What was that about?" She asked sharply, slipping her wand into her hand. "Why are you taking the Boy-Who-Lived?"

"Taking?" He replied. "Harry chose to come with us of his own free will. We postponed the move at his request, but circumstances changed. Rest assured that I respect his freedom and personal safety immensely, Bones-buchō."

"He has school and friends," she argued, careful to keep her tone neutral. "Are you going to cut him off from them?"

"I shall act upon his choices," was the clipped answer. "If he wishes to come back to learn and play, I will let him. If he wishes to never see this country again, know that you will never find him. He wishes to travel the ends of the Earth, I will help him. Even if he wants to give up magic and be a gardener, I will support him."

Baffled at the conviction in his speech, Scrimgour spoke up. "Why? Why do this for him?"

Two figures shifted in the corner of their vision and the Aurors realised that Harry Potter and the painted man had been standing there for a minute at least.

"I'll wait until Harry is ready for people to know," Lord Gaara continued, before turning to the two latecomers. "Kankuro, did you get everything?"

"Yep," he said, patting a scroll on his hip. "I took the opportunity to impress upon Mr Dursley that he shouldn't take his stress out on his wife or son. We should get a move on though; it's getting late."

"Mr Potter," Amelia broke in urgently. "Are you leaving with these two men of your own free will, without threats or coercion?"  
The boy, holding a cage containing a snowy owl close to his chest, nodded before saying quietly "Yes ma'am. I want to go with them."

She sighed. "Nothing I can do about it. Ruthers, Scrimgour; we're going. We've got a report to write up. If Harry Potter doesn't arrive at Hogwarts, we know who to look for." She paused, and looked back at the two foreigners and the Boy-Who-Lived. "Sirius Black, the mass-murderer, is on the loose. Be on your guard, use magic in front of muggles if you have to. Just don't let him near Mr Potter; Sirius Black's targeting him."

Three cracks and the Aurors apparated away.

* * *

"You're going?" Temari echoed.

"I have to," Shikamaru sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I promised Asuma-sensei I'd be there for his child and she's going to be born soon. I have to be there. Besides, I've hidden away for too long."

"If you think you can handle staying there," she said. "I won't try and keep you here." She leaned forward and kissed him deeply.

"Really?" He gasped with a grin when they resurfaced. "I thought were seducing me to try and continue the Nara Clan in Suna." She smiled back. "Oh no, you saw right through my cunning plan," she deadpanned. "Curses, foiled again."

He reached up behind her back and tugged lightly on one of her ponytails. "Crazy woman," he smiled, before his good mood dimmed. "To be honest, it's the thought that one day I won't miss them that hurts more."

"It never goes away," she murmured, wrapping her arms around him. "You keep asking yourself 'what if they were still here?'"

"Hmm," he hummed, reciprocating the hug and burying his face in her hair. After a few moments he made to pull away, only for his girl to squeeze him tighter.  
"Mi~ne," she whined. "Why do have to be so cuddly?"  
He tapped her on the nose.  
"Only the best for the Hime."

She scowled. "Don't call me that, it makes me sound like one of those primping powdered courtesans who twitter and prattle incessantly."

"I'm guessing there's a story behind that?"

"Yes, but I won't tell it now," she sighed. "Besides, you should pack, shouldn't you? And you do have a gift for the new mother, don't you?"

He froze, staring blankly at her, and she groaned. "Baka! That's it, we're going to Underbridge **(se ftn.)** right now and buying something nice!"

XXX

She dragged him past the Food Court to Crafters Row and, after looking at the signs, pushed him into a tent that advertised

'The Fluffy Carp  
Yabe's Toys and Talismans  
All Hand-made'

They exited the establishment 20 minutes later, Shikamaru clutching a paper bag and looking vaguely shell-shocked. "Evil woman," he muttered. "You are evil Temari, evil."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, it wasn't-"

"Temari-kun!" Someone yelled, running towards them along the underside of the bridge. The Puppeteer stopped when he was immediately above them and looked down.  
"Temari-kun, have you seen my gaki? Oh, is this the hot boyfriend of yours everyone's been talking about?"

"Yes, this is Shikamaru Nara. No, I haven't seen your student. Shikamaru, this is a friend of Baki-sensei, Kokan Nishi."  
The man flipped and landed on his feet in front of them. "Nice to meet ya kid!"

Shikamaru looked down at him. Emphasis on down. "You're short," he blurted out.

Kokan looked down at himself. "No, I'm just kneeling down," He said with a thick edge of sarcasm. "Nice observational skills. Now, if you two lovebirds will excuse me, I've got a student to hunt down." He ran off into the crowd.

"Does everyone keep tabs on our love-life?" Shikamaru asked faintly. Temari patted him on the shoulder; "Yep. We are the Village's celebrity power couple, combined with the whole inter-Village 'forbidden romance' cliché. People are decent enough to keep it covert though."

XXX

"I'll have to take up the mantle of Clan Head," Shikamaru said hesitantly when they got back to the Kazekage mansion. "I'll be an integral part of the Village, so we won't be able to...see each other that much."

"It's not like our Villages are at war," Temari sighed, flopping back on his bed and stretching. "I'm sure we can be 'conveniently' sent on missions to places near each other. And with our positions, us both being diplomats to each others' Village is almost certain. I'm sure we can manage to 'further Village relations' then." She wiggled her eyebrows exaggeratedly and Shikamaru couldn't help but snicker.

Temari chewed her lip thoughtfully. Gaara hadn't given her the go-ahead yet, but Shikamaru was basically part of the family now and it was better to ask forgiveness than permission...

"Hey, Shikamaru? You know those letters I wrote that you got so worked up about?...'"

* * *

 ***Upbeat jingle plays***

 **Ask Kankuro!**

 _Are there any shinobi techniques that can block the Killing Curse?_

Well, no official experiments have been carried out, but since there are certain seals that can absorb plasma-element jutsu, it's a general consensus that one of those could possibly intercept the spell. Much the same is thought about the few space-time jutsu that exist. Mind you, the Uchiha have never been very forthcoming. The Rinnegan did have the abilities to repel things chakra construct jutsu or absorb ninjutsu, so that might be something.

It's almost a reverse when it comes to elemental barriers. The Curse can be blocked by a physical barrier and a wall of Katon - and presumably Raiton, but I don't know if that jutsu exists or is even possible - doesn't work since that's not solid. A wall of Suiton is best avoided since it either refracts the bolt into kami-knows-what direction, goes straight through or may even disperse it. Too unpredictable.

Walls of Futon - you can probably guess how that would go. They do exist, but only as collections of sharpened air-currents to shred enemies. No effect on the Killing Curse.

Your best bet is Doton, just make sure you can get a wall up in time.

Sand should work, as should Yoton. The jury's still out on whether a metal wall via Jiton would block or conduct a spell and nobody's tested it on Mokuton. Theoretically it should just kill the wood or do nothing; either way it's blocked.

Or you can just doge.

* * *

 **Ftn: Several of the main streets in Suna are actually raised off of the ground. The space underneath is for shelter and safe travel during sandstorms. However, this area is mostly full of temporary shops and food-stands. These are privately owned by individual citizens looking to make some extra cash. This are is known as Underbridge.  
Not to be confused with the Marketplace, which is out in the open and stalls are owned by official brands and stores.**

* * *

 **So, there we are. Chapter 14. I know an Uncle Vernon freak-out was expected, but I decided to shift the plot along a bit. Dudley was simply sent up to his room, nothing to worry about there.**

 **Yay! ShikaTem fluff! Plus a cameo from Hourglass.**

 **I made up Gaara's and Kankuro's battle aliases. I made Gaara's pretty old though, dating back to his childhood instability. He'll most likely have a new one from the Fourth Shinobi War.**

 **I imagine that in canon, Aurors do show up to the Dursley house, only to find Harry has made a run for it. They track him to the Knight Bus, but when they get to the Leaky Cauldron, Fudge sends them away.  
In this story, Harry stays put and gets to meet Amelia Bones, however briefly.**

 **As always, read, enjoy and review if you can. Review what your favourite moment/quote from this story so far is!**


	15. The Details

**I have an announcement. I recently found a fandom whose mechanics are based on the soul. The souls come in the seven colours of the rainbow, one being viewed as more powerful than the others, with each having a particular personality aspect and the power channelling into different objects to weaponize them.**

 **Now, am I talking about Undertale or Katekyo Hitman Reborn? Think about that for a moment.**

 **WE NEED CROSSOVERS!**

 **Squalo is basically Undyne, Mettaton is Lussaria, the SOULS are basically the Arcobaleno with the colours switched and Chara is Byakuran! HOW HAS NOBODY SEEN THIS?**

* * *

 **Also, story recommendation is Black Sky by Umei no Mai. KHR! Harry Potter X-over. Regal I-was-raised-by-the-Blacks FemHarry. Also a really interesting take on Xanxus. Story is past chapter 200 and still going. At the moment, the Varia Archive is eating people, Squalo has a harem, there's a snake on a plane and the new Lightning may or may not be a cannibal. It's not a crack fic.**

 **In past chapters, Luna has beseiges the Varia Mansion with Pokémon, Donna Ottava is a kickass old lady, the Zabini Family/Nation are Not Happy, Belphegor gets a sister, Fon knows the Blacks and the Vongola is pathetically oblivious.**

 **Read if you like knowing about background characters as people, in-depth culture, snide anecdotes and lots of characters going WTF in various ways.**

* * *

"This place is becoming an aviary," Kankuro grumbled. "First Bram, then the messenger hawk, Harry's Hedwig and now this one!"

Gaara looked at the barn owl perched blankly on the windowsill. "Hmm. It's a messenger bird the same as Hedwig, but yet it's not a nin-animal. How strange. I wonder how the difference came about?"

"Yes, yes, truly fascinating. Just ignore the guy whose trying to stop the showdown between two murderous raptors."

A groan from the bed interrupted them as Harry blinked blearily and reached for his glasses. "Uhh...what time is it? And is that owl red with four feet or am I still dreaming?"

"It's 6 o'clock in the morning; you left 4 Privet Drive last night and fell asleep on the way here. No you are not dreaming, that is a real owl and it's Kankuro's responsibility," Gaara said blithely. "Good morning, by the way."

"Good...uuaagh...morning," Harry yawned. He smiled as Hedwig landed on his shoulder and started to preen his hair, churring softly. "Morning to you too girl." It was then that he noticed the bed he was lying in. "O-oh, sorry Gaara! I stole your bed, I'm sorry!"

"You've got nothing to be sorry for Harry," Gaara said evenly. "I put you in that bed; you didn't steal it. I don't need much sleep and it's not the first time I've not slept in a bed. Trust me, if I didn't want you in the bed, you wouldn't have woken up in it."

Harry felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment. "Right, sorry. Uh, where's the bathroom?"

"En-suite is the door in that corner. Kankuro had a shower earlier, so the floor might be slippery."

"Thanks," Harry said as he flung back the covers and heaved himself out of bed.

Ten minutes later, Harry exited the bathroom, face washed and hair combed as neatly as possible(not very). He walked into the strangest of debates. His two brothers(he had brothers. HE HAD BROTHERS) were hunched over a single piece of paper on which scribbles were being written around a pencil sketch of what looked like a complicated system of joints, knives and tubing. They were muttering in a strange foreign language which must be their native tongue and kept snatching the paper off of each other to note down words and equations.

"So..." he said hesitantly. "Red owl?" The aforementioned avian being obviously magical and currently scrutinizing him like it was contemplating the best way to murder him, Harry thought it best to draw attention to it.

"Hm?" Kankuro looked up from the paper, letting Gaara take the paper off him and start jotting down numbers. "Oh, that's Bram. We bought him from Knockturn Alley because I want to research how his legs work and so we can fit in in the Wizarding World. Owls are the messenger birds of choice here after all."

"Owl," Harry deadpanned. "What...sort of owl is Bram anyway?" He was not comforted by the 'isn't it cool?' smile on his brother's face.

"He's a Strix. They live for a really long time and drink blood. Also, their feathers can be used in potions apparently. He's also just as intelligent as Hedwig."

Harry threw up his hands in exasperation. "Okay, that's pretty cool. And also incredibly insane! Why do I keep running into dangerous animals? At least this one is probably on my side." He turned to the bloody raptor. "Hello, my name is Harry Potter. I am a Wizard. I go to Hogwarts. I like Quidditch and hate Potions. I would like to have one year where someone isn't trying to kill me, but so far I'm not having much luck. Nice to meet you. Also, the snowy on my shoulder is Hedwig, who is my nin-owl and my best girl. If you could not kill each other, that would be great."

Speech over, Harry flopped back onto the bed. Hedwig settled on his chest, feathers poofed in irritation and he limply raised one hand to stroke her.

"That rough, huh?" Kankuro asked, sitting down beside him. "Okay, so I know about the Basilisk last year, what about your first year?"

"Troll," was the answering groan. "And technically a giant three-headed dog. I didn't fight the dog, I just avoided it. But there was the evil spirit of Voldemort possessing my defence teacher, that happened. Speaking of spirits, last year also had kid Voldemort as a weird cursed diary possessing Ron's sister Ginny. And giant spiders who wanted to eat me."

"You're sure you don't attend a monster-hunting school instead?" Kankuro joked, but his tone quickly turned serious. "This is a very disturbing pattern, you know. Don't these teachers of yours do anything?"

Harry racked his brains and, to his surprise, came up with nothing. "Uuuuuhh, the Headmaster turned up to help chase off Voldemort's wraith that attacked me in first year...um, after I killed Professor Quirrell?"

"What." Kankuro's voice was silkily dangerous and Harry flinched, curling up on himself as much as he dared without disturbing Hedwig. He wasn't expecting the next question to be what it was.

"Why didn't you say you had killed before?"

Harry blinked in surprise at Gaara, who had asked the question from where he sat on the other bed. "Y-you're not...mad?"

"You obviously didn't enjoy any of it, even if it was in self-defence. So no, we're not," Kankuro replied. "We'd be hypocrites if we did."

"What do you...oh, right. You said a few days ago that shinobi often have to...k-kill." Harry started when a callused hand slipped into his, but quickly calmed when it squeezed reassuringly and began to pulse with little static tingles of warmth.

"Does it bother you that much Harry?" Kankuro asked softly. "We think no less of you for not liking killing. Shinobi are selfish people. We pick a cause or some people we think are worthy of protecting, then we do anything to keep them safe. So that they don't get hurt, don't have to fight, don't have to change themselves by killing others."

Harry frowned to himself as he drew connections. "But doesn't that make shinobi heroes? You sacrifice all that for other people, so that means you're good, right? I mean, my mum and dad sacrificed themselves to protect me and everyone calls them heroes...'"

"One man's hero is another man's villain," Gaara smoothly stepped in, sitting on Harry's other side. "They fought in a war and no doubt committed atrocities of their own. History is written by the victor, and their side won, so of course they are heroes. That they died for you, chose to do so, only means that they loved you enough to value your life higher than their own. They thought you were worth dying for."

Bolstered, physically and emotionally, between family who loved him, Harry felt tears sting in the corners of his eyes.

"During the Third Shinobi War," Gaara said out of nowhere. "The Village of Iwagakure, or Hidden Stone, launched a full offensive on the Hidden Leaf forces. A shinobi named Minato Namikaze halted their advance by himself and so was hailed a hero by the Leaf Village. It was that one battle that earned him the SS, or 'flee on sight' ranking. Do you know how he stopped them?"

Harry shook his head, engrossed in the story.

"Well, I say it was a battle; more like a massacre. He singlehandedly slaughtered the entire Iwagakure force of a thousand shinobi in under two minutes, some say under one. Even to this day, his name still strikes fear into Iwagakure shinobi. To them, he was an unstoppable monster, killing family, friends and comrades."

"What my little brother is trying to say," Kankuro sighed. "Is that morality is relative, but respect is not. You can still think someone an enemy, but respect them for their skills or what they are trying to accomplish. Also, you can think that someone is good, but not respect them. You can learn from both sorts of people, even if it's just what not to do."

Harry was silent for a minute as the words sank in. It did make a lot of sense. It also seemed a lot more freeing that you didn't _have_ to respect someone just because they were good. Plus, it was very dumb to dismiss people doing bad things as weak and stupid.

"Minato Namikaze, what happened to him?" He asked.

"He became Hokage, which means Fire Shadow and is the leader or ruler, of the Hidden Leaf. He later sacrificed himself to save the Village and his newborn son," Gaara replied promptly.

"Is being Fire Shadow anything like being Wind Shadow?"

"They are the same position, merely of different Villages," was the answer. Harry's jaw dropped.

"But that means...you're...why didn't you tell me?!"

"Partly because it wouldn't have been wise to announce it in public; we weren't lying when we said we were both high-ranking," Kankuro said, letting Hedwig hop onto his knee as Harry heaved himself upright. "Partly because we could tell that you don't like too much attention, so we gave you a bit of time to let everything else sink in."

"You know me so well," Harry exclaimed. "Everyone else thinks I want to be noticed, even if it's not all the time. I think Hermione and Ron both get that about me somewhere in their heads, but sometimes they revert to thinking about the stereotypes I should be. In first year, Ron accepted a fight for me because he thought I would want that. He's gotten better, but his family's really big, which means he wants to be noticed and assumes I'm the same. Hermione's not one to badger me, but she tends to group me together with the other boys as being slackers and impulsive."

"You've got a talent for figuring people out, Harry." Gaara reached up and ruffled the unruly black hair. "Can you tell anything about us?"

Harry faltered at suddenly being put in the spotlight. "Well, uh, okay, I guess? Kankuro, you don't like sharing your opinions with those you don't think are worth it, but you like making useless small talk to sound people out. Gaara, you're not used to being stared at I think, it's hard to tell, and you have defined opinions on what you do and don't like. That's...all I have since I haven't known you that long. Is that enough?"

Kankuro whistled, impressed. "More than enough! That's really good, you got more than most trained shinobi do. Just to change the subject, that barn owl over there has a letter for you."

Harry blinked, "huh", then got up and went over to the bland-looking owl that proffered it's cargo to him. He opened and quickly checked the name at the bottom. "Oh, it's from Blaise Zabini."

 **'Dear Potter,**

 **I suppose the initial purpose of this letter is to congratulate you on finding your family, despite the looming threat of Sirius Black. No doubt this discovery also coincided with that of your true position in Wizarding Society.**

 **I must confess that many students from other such families were surprised at your appearance and demeanour when you started Hogwarts. That is partly the reason that Draco Malfoy goes out of his way to torment you, despite having warned against it many times. You might be surprised to know that Malfoy finds little support within Slytherin House in his activities regarding you. We find him impulsive, hotheaded, oblivious and all too Gryffindor for our tastes.**

 **With no disrespect to Lord Gaara and Lord Kankuro, I feel that they may not be equipped to instruct you on the correct etiquette suited to your particular station. Since we seem to have reached a tentative civility during our previous interactions, I am offering my services to guide you in social matters.**

 **You may, of course, ignore or disregard these lessons if you so wish, but to continue as you are now will leave a more permanent impact on other's views of you now that you are advancing in your education.**

 **I await your response.**

 **Regards,**

 **Blaise Artiglio Zabini.**

 **P.S. My mother is considering inviting you to the Zabini Yule Dinner. I'm just telling you because I honestly don't know whether you should be honoured or afraid. I think she's hoping that you'll bring either Lord Gaara or Lord Kankuro with you.**

 **P.P.S. While there are several grains of truth in the stories about my mother, please understand that she loves me very much and she has her reasons for what she does.'**

"Well, isn't this interesting," Kankuro practically purred as he leant over Harry's shoulder. "What do you know of this mother Zabini, Harry?"

"She's...I've only heard gossip, so I don't know how accurate it is, but people say she seduces rich men and marries them, only for them to die soon after in mysterious circumstances."

"Oh my, now this is someone I have to hear more about," Gaara murmured, plucking the letter from Harry's grasp. "This is what I was talking about Harry. Does nobody ever think about what she spends that money on? Do Wizards actually think that a woman like this would hoard riches for gloating? Not to mention this lifestyle is something to admire the sheer skill of."

"Is it because she's still doing it? She's done it more than once, I mean?" Harry asked, wracking his brain for clues.

"Exactly!" Kankuro proudly exclaimed. "See? Look underneath the underneath. She keeps doing it because she needs the money, even if I do suspect a personal vendetta, the money from previous husbands is gone. She's content to keep playing her game, so she's not using it to her personal advancement; she's spending it on somebody or something else. Didn't young Zabini say that she loves him? She's obviously willing to kill for him after all."

Harry gaped for the second time that morning. "But that's so easy to figure out! How has no other Wizard thought that?"

"Maybe they're stupid," Gaara suggested with a shoulder shrug. "Or maybe some have, but keep it to themselves as leverage. Most likely the latter. Seduction is one of the oldest methods of killing there is, but she's doing in the public eye, several times and yet she's still getting away with it. That makes her very interesting."

"You think I should take lessons from Blaise?" Harry queried.

"The hell you asking me for?" Kankuro exclaimed. "It's your life, do what you think is best. If this will help you feel better about yourself, do it and screw everybody else."  
Gaara coughed reprovingly. "I agree, partially. Pursue your goals by all means, but be mindful of other people's feelings."

Harry...did like Blaise. In a way; more of a role-model type of admiration. The other boy was so calm and collected and seemed so confidant, yet wasn't like Malfoy at all. Also, Blaise's family seemed to operate on a life outlook a lot like Harry's brothers' and the similarity was somewhat comforting.  
Harry didn't want to be pushed around anymore. He wanted to stand out, but not like he already did; he wanted to forge his own path and find out who he was so he could be comfortable in his own skin. Maybe the Sorting Hat had been onto something when it wanted to put him in Slytherin. Harry was content with Gryffindor, being in close proximity with Draco would probably drive him insane, after all. But was he only now just discovering that respect from everyone was what he had wanted all along? He had spent so long being treated as nothing, then running from the crushing weight of what _others_ felt he should be, that he hadn't had the time to himself to work out what _he_ really wanted out of life.

If Blaise could teach him that confidence, not necessarily the etiquette and high society stuff, then maybe Hermione and Ron would stop dragging him along with everything, people wouldn't stare disappointedly at him and he might find the courage to talk to other people than Ron and Hermione. He had already made a sort-of start with Blaise, thanks to Gaara. Come to think of it, he didn't know a single person in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw in his own year, let alone the older and younger years. He didn't know what the older years thought, but he would have liked a friendly face as a first-year himself. Especially being Muggle-raised.

It was decided. He would take the lessons from Blaise and try and talk to the first-years as well as students in other houses.  
"I will take those lessons," he said as decisively as possible. Gaara and Kankuro merely nodded in acceptance.

"Do you want to use the barn owl the letter came with to reply, or Bram?" Kankuro asked excitedly.

Harry eyed the crimson raptor warily. "I...don't know. Uh, Bram? Would you want to deliver one of my letters if I asked?"

The Strix considered the small, runty chick his new humans had brought back. The young one was still a downy fledgling, only just clumsily coming into his full potential. BloodGaara and BlackKankuro had obviously claimed him and Bram had learnt his lesson about challenging them. At least the snow-female wasn't eyeing him up like all the females he been subjected to in the past and she seemed to have intelligence close to his own, so he would tolerate her. He was, admittedly, confused by FledglingHarry's request. SnowHedwig had blatantly claimed him as her own for many Seasons now, so why would he choose Bram over her? He barked his confusion.

"Impressions, impressions, impressions," Kankuro purled, draping himself over Harry like a cat. "Harry sends Hedwig, he's presenting his answer as himself. No offence, littlest brother, but your word doesn't have much weight. Yet. Harry sends you, as mine and Gaara's owl, that shows he has our backing. Backing too heavy for Zabini to back out at the last minute. Also, this can be your debut as the ferocious, intelligent creature all shall come to know you as.  
Plus, we're feeling a bit possessive at the moment, there's that too."

The Strix looked to Hedwig, who glared at him before hissing her warning consent. It didn't take long for Bram to make up his mind and say yes.

* * *

Gaara opened the window to let Bram out, before closing it once more. "Harry, just out of curiosity, what prescription of glasses do you take?"  
The reply was a blank, puzzled look. "Um...wait, like a doctor's prescription? I didn't know you needed one. Aunt Petunia got me my first pair from a charity bin I think, but she got me these last year from the Pound Shop. Why do you ask?"

Kankuro very carefully stopped himself from uttering several of the more _creative_ curses he knew. "Harry, store-bought glasses are used as stop-gaps until you go see an optician. You were squinting badly and leaning close to the paper while you were writing that letter. I thought that maybe you just needed your prescription tweaking a little. I take it you've never seen an optician, ever?"

"Well, no. I've never noticed the squinting, but that helps me focus on the words. My eyes are fine, I'm really good at finding the snitch in Quidditch, so it's not that big of a deal."

"It is a big deal," Gaara said, running his fingers through Harry's hair while trying to suppress the gnawing anger inside of him. "You should never need to squint to focus, and being able to see well only at certain distances does mean that there's still a problem. It's affecting your ability to read and therefore your life as a whole."

"Wait," Harry started suddenly. "So reading isn't supposed to give me headaches? I thought that was reason the guys in my dormitory hardly ever did their homework; because it hurt! I always thought Hermione was crazy for liking reading so much."

"Am I correct in guessing that your teachers complain about your handwriting? Or that you never seem to follow written instructions quite right?" Kankuro asked, resisting the urge to bury his head in his hands. Harry ducked his head nervously.  
"Yes."

"Breakfast," Gaara announced decisively as he rose to his feet. " Then we shall go into the city. This will be sorted out before nightfall, I promise. Also, Kankuro and I have some other items to purchase. But only after this problem is fixed."

* * *

"Blaise!" Angelique Zabini trilled urgently. Her son increased his pace to a run, bursting into the Dining Room with his wand drawn. He skidded to a stop, eyes wide.  
"Che cavolo?!" He blurted out at the sight of the imposing avian perched atop the back-rest of his chair.

"It...he has a letter for you Blaise," his mother hissed. "Porca miseria, uccellino, who would send you a _Strix_?!"

"I don't know Madre," he gulped as he approached the imperious-looking bird, who proffered it's letter to him in one of it's claws instead of dropping it in front of him. Forcing his hand steady, Blaise took the envelope. It was of muggle make, surprisingly. Backing away from the messenger, Blaise tore open the latter and read it's contents.

 **'Dear Blaise Zabini,  
I got your letter and your offer looks very interesting. You are correct that Gaara and Kankuro aren't able to bring me up to date on Wizarding Society, so I would like to take you up on these lessons. Maybe we could meet on the Hogwarts Express to discuss times and places to meet up?**

 **The Strix's name is Bram by the way and he belongs to Kankuro. He said something about staking a claim, so that's why I'm using Bram instead of Hedwig. Bram promised not to hurt anyone, just deliver the letter, in return for not having to stick around for a reply. Sorry if he gives you a shock, I know Striges are pretty dangerous.**

 **I'll wait for your reply.**

 **Harry Potter.'**

"Oh mio Dio," Angelique breathed as the Strix took wing and dived out the window, it's mission at an end now the letter had been read. Then a shiver went through her, her back straightened and she gazed with predatory interest at the retreating red speck in the distance. "I really need to meet these men. The Yule Dinner it is."

Blaise stifled a terrified groan. This would not end well.

* * *

Padfoot came back to consciousness sluggishly, his thoughts swimming around in his head murkily. The last thing he remembered...a sort of sweet smell? Had it been a gas leak or something? He made to get up, only to be stopped by the ropes binding his legs together. Panic set in; muggles did unspeakable things to dogs, even ones they saved to put in shelters.  
This didn't look like a pound, actually. More like an abandoned warehouse. He could smell the sharp tang of saltwater that was common to the Thames. And a presence that smelled of wood shavings, metal and...his pup!

He writhed on the ground, trying to slip free of the ropes, baring his teeth and growling at the approaching figure. The gait reminded Padfoot of a scavenger powerful enough to kill. The words the man spoke were undoubtedly a question from the tone, but Sirius did not understand them. The man frowned, puzzled.

"Do you understand me now?" He asked in English. Padfoot pricked his ears warily and nodded his head.  
"Do you belong to a Magical person then?" The Animagus nodded; a near-familiar whose master had perished would be a suitable cover.

Relief filled his bones as the ropes fell away with the slash of a black, diamond-shaped knife. Padfoot staggered to his feet, shaking the blood-flow back into his limbs. Only to be seized by an invisible force and hurled in a blur of motion against a stack of crates. Splintered wood and dust filled his vision and the stabbing pain from sharp and rusty nails ripped through his emaciated body.  
Not good. He had taken great lengths to avoid injury, especially infection; given his weakened state and lack of medical substances it would definitely kill him. Not that that would probably matter, given that this stranger seemed bent on killing him here and now.

"Dogs don't nod," hissed the man. "That's a human response. Change back. Now."

Padfoot acquiesced; either way he was dead.

The only reaction to his appearance was a slight widening of the eyes looking down on him. The only warning Sirius had was a clicking sound, before wooden arms erupted from the mass of shattered wood beneath him, binding his arms to his sides with a grip like death.

"Sirius Black," stated his grim-reaper-to-be. "You are going to tell me _everything_."

The shadow clone of Kankuro bared his teeth in a wicked grin; this wouldn't take long.

* * *

 ***Upbeat jingle plays***

 **Ask Kankuro!**

 _ **'How fast would a shinobi need to be to dodge spells?'**_

Um...there are many types of spell. If we're talking about offensive spells, then it's just a matter of getting out of the way. Elemental spells like conjuring fire or water, as well as changing the environment, need something a little different.

To dodge a simple spell-bolt, the speed needed would be the same as dodging a shuriken or kunai. Experienced Genin, just to label it.

Elemental spells are much the same as jutsu, so removing yourself from the immediate area with Shunshin or Kawirimi. You could even throw up a barrier if you feel confident that it should work. For these methods; Genin or Experienced Genin for the former, Chunin for the latter.

Moving Terrain training varies from Village to Village, so I can't accurately say what level you'd need to be if the landscape started changing. However, a shinobi who's quick on their feet, can instinctively use chakra to stick to a variety of surfaces and is aware of their surroundings could wing it without much difficulty and utilise the techniques I just said.

* * *

 **BAKI DRABBLES NOW UP!**

 **CHECK OUT THE STORY HOURGLASS!**

* * *

 **Read, enjoy, review if you can.**

 **Post questions for Kankuro and say what your favourite quote/moment is so far!**


	16. The Readjustment

**I have to share this curious coincidence. I've known for a while that I was a Hufflepuff, but I recently took the Pottermore Patronus quiz and found out I was a FOX! And the description suit me to a T. How weird is that?**

 **So...this is a bit late. Partly because of RL deadlines, but mostly because Hell is Empty, All the Devils are Here won't leave me alone. My first Katekyo Hitman Reborn! fic, as well as an Abused!10thGen fic with a generous serving of Varia, Brotherly!Dino and FLUFF! As well as my own take on Flame Aspects. Hivemind!10thGen.**

 **Anyway, on to brotherly fluff, shopping and torture...and I don't mean more shopping.**

* * *

"Ah yes," mused the optician. "Plain old case of long-sightedness. I'll just get some lenses sent up and you can try them on young man. In fact, why don't you go pick out some frames you like while I have a quick chat about your measurements?"

Harry nodded, practically vibrating with excitement. After a brief consenting nod from Gaara, he made his way out of the booth and made a beeline for the racks.

"Gentlemen," Doctor Wilkes said frostily. "As a medical professional I am bound by my oaths to alert the proper authorities if I identify possible child neglect or abuse. However, given your pleasant demeanours towards Mister Potter and his to you, I'm giving to one chance to explain."

"Harry was only removed from his previous caretakers yesterday," Gaara replied calmly, feeling vindicated by the righteous fury in the optician's face and bearing. "It was more neglectful than anything, but as you saw, even that has left damage to his health. As his new guardians, my brother and I are making inroads into correcting this as much as we can."

The man relaxed slightly. "So the authorities already know; good. I'm glad, he seems like a sweet young man and no child deserves such treatment. You had best get him something for the malnutrition and muscle strain if you haven't already. And make him eat; he'll need a lot of energy since he's hitting puberty about now. Not too much fibre, but plenty of vitamins and carbohydrates. And make sure to let him know that you love and appreciate him."

"We know, Doctor, we know," Gaara forestalled him, holding up a placating hand. "Not to be rude, but I'm quite involved with the orphanage back home; I know some things about what makes a child tick."

"Of course you'd have experience," the Doctor berated himself. "Child Services wouldn't give an abuse case to someone who didn't know what they were doing, I'm being an idiot. Ah, I think Mister Potter has returned."  
Indeed, Harry re-entered the booth carrying two pairs of frames as if they were made of glass. "I couldn't choose, I like them both too much, so can you choose for me?" He asked breathlessly, holding them out.

The first pair were half-moon glasses, gold rimmed with black hinges and temple tips. The others were round like his old ones, but with thin tortoiseshell rims, the hinges silver, same as the slightly thicker nose bridge and top bar.

Gaara hummed thoughtfully. "No, I can't choose either," he declared. "You know, you could get both. Choose which pair to wear each day and keep the other as a spare just in case."

"I-I guess," Harry said hesitantly. "But won't it be too much money?"

"You choosing these for yourself is a gift from me," Gaara said gently, as Doctor Wilkes busied himself in the background. "Having them is a right that you were denied and I am correcting. Money doesn't even come into it."

"Oh," Harry could only mumble. "Sorry, I'm still not used to...this."

"They'll be plenty of time to get used to it," Gaara reassured him as Kankuro slipped the frames from Harry's grasp for Doctor Wilkes to fit the lenses. "Do you mind walking around and doing some shopping with us? We've got a list the people back home sent us and we might as well get it done today, see some sights while we're at it?"

"Sure!" Harry nodded excitedly.

"Not so fast, young man!" Doctor Wilkes interrupted. "Let's test these new glasses out first, okay? Put them on and try the chart again."

Harry did as he was bidden, and his excitement only grew as the black blurred lines at the bottom of the poster became crystal clear. "This...this is amazing! I can read it from all the way over here and it doesn't hurt!"

"I guess I can expect an improvement in your school work then?" Gaara teased. Harry's face fell almost comically.  
"I suppose. Wait, you want me to do better?"

"Of course," Gaara blinked. "It's only natural for me to want you and support you to succeed. No slacking off, okay? I want you to do your best, particularly if you really enjoy something."

Harry blinked back the tight hot feeling in his chest that felt like it was going to make his heart explode. It was nice, in way. This all felt more real than any interaction he'd had with any other person. For the first time in his life, he was actually regretting that he had to go to Hogwarts if it meant leaving Gaara and Kankuro. At least he had the two-way journals, but it wouldn't be the same.

* * *

"Just so you know, Harry, all shinobi are pretty much crazy," Kankuro said blandly as he leafed through a book on reptiles before replacing it back on the shelf. "Being a shinobi gets pretty stressful and it's not like many people are going to argue with you about what you can and can't do, so weird hobbies and personalities are a staple. That doesn't mean those hobbies have to be violent or harmful in any way though."

"From what we just bought, I'm guessing that a lot of them are gardeners and movie fans?" Harry guessed, eyeing the storage scroll Kankuro had tucked in his pocket. His brother grinned proudly at him, the expression more prominent since he wasn't wearing any of his war-paint at all.  
"Yes, but these plants we brought seeds for have some uses in medicines, poisons and other things as well as being pretty. The movies get shown at the cinema for everyone to watch, but we've got a few horror fanatics in the Village who request new movies every year."

Harry pondered the information for a moment. "But aren't there movie companies on your side of the gate?"

"Yeah, but it's not as big an industry as it is over here. There's not much variety either. The current phase of movies is the 'Prodigal Royalty' type and it's a bit too heavy on the 'power of friendship' and unrealistic battles for shinobi tastes. There's no shortage of theatre though. Hang on, I think Gaara's done paying."  
Indeed, Gaara came over with a heavy bag.

"I got the collected original Grimm's Fairy Tales, same for Hans Christian Anderson, and a children's rendition of collected Shakespeare for reading to the kids at the orphanage," he listed. "And some John Wyndham novellas for the Chunin and Jounin lounges."

"Why do you like Wyndham?" Kankuro groaned exaggeratedly. "Some of his stuff is just messed up; I read The Chrysalids! The Tsuda Triplets read Day of The Triffids and refused to go near the greenhouses for two days. Utamara read The Midwich Cuckoos and took a month to get over his resulting fear of Yamanaka."

Gaara crossed his arms. "Motonobu reads them," he huffed.

"He's a T&I specialist in genjutsu, being screwed in the head is a job requirement for him," Kankuro re-iterated slowly. "If he's made a genjutsu based off of Web, I feel sorry for whoever he tests it on."

"Why do we always have to argue about books?"

Kankuro thought for a moment. "Don't know, actually. What did you pick out Harry?"

"Hm?" Harry muttered, engrossed in one of the books he had picked. "Oh, some Biggles and Roald Dahl books. I'm going to take them to Hogwarts with me and it'll be funny to see peoples' faces when I show them The Witches."

"Ahhh, I loved Fantastic Mr Fox when I was a kid!" Kankuro sighed. "It's a really popular story back home, since it's a very shinobi-esque tale. Along with Puss in Boots, The Scarlet Pimpernel...you get the idea."

"Starting to understand why people like reading Harry?" Gaara asked.

"Yeah!" Harry nodded. "It's so easy now, that I can concentrate on the story. I just have to find out what happens next!"

"Well, go and pay for them then," Kankuro prompted, handing him some money. "After this, we just need to buy something as a present for Baki-sensei, then we can go look at some of the museums and galleries."

* * *

Sirius Black, as heir of a Dark Family, was well acquainted with methods of torture, muggle and wizard. He was not, however, used to predatory, esoterically dressed wizards who seemed to know exactly what he was feeling without even meeting his eyes. At least the man believed he was innocent once he got his side of the story out; or rather, he said he believed.

"You've seen Harry very recently." Sirius stated, implying the question.

"I have been in close proximity with Harry Potter." Was the equal non-reply. "No, you won't be meeting him anytime soon."

Sirius jerked futilely against the wooden arms holding him tight. "I'm innocent!" He spat. "I'm his Godfather; I have a right!"

The man simply stared blankly at him, half-lidded eyes lazy with contemplation. "You're forgetting that I am currently the only one who believes your innocence. In short, you are entirely dependant on me to survive. And I don't want you anywhere near Harry. He will be told of you and your _possible_ innocence, but since he's quite sensible he won't want to meet you anytime soon.

And let's face it, you're a pathetic Godfather."

The blasé observation cut Sirius right down to the heart. Yet still the man continued, as calmly as if discussing the weather. Speaking of which, how long had they been in this place anyway?

"Your Godson has fallen under your care through tragic circumstances, yet you abandon him to some one who is not loyal to you and is not fully capable of protecting him, all in order to fulfil your own revenge. You don't notify anyone of the change in circumstances, you don't call for backup and you don't take proper precautions when confronting your enemy, whose capabilities you should have known inside-out. You abandoned your Godson and didn't even bother to ensure that you would win. Don't give me shit about how you were upset, this was war. People die, people turn traitor. Harry's parents knew that, that's why they scarified themselves to save him. Admit it, deep down, you know you're not cut out to raise Harry."

A broken whimper of despair escaped Sirius as he stood slumped in the puppet's vice-like grip. Kankuro eyed him carefully, judging the effect of his next words before letting them fly.  
"But since Harry is too big-hearted for his own good, and I really don't want him mad at me, I suppose you'll meet him at some point." There was the dawning hope he wanted to see. "Ah, ah; not yet. Your emotional control is shot to shit, you need to get your priorities in order and we definitely need to make a start on those ingrained prejudices." The last two sentences obviously hadn't sunk in since the man had gone from broken-hearted to hyper so fast it had given him emotional whiplash just to watch. Hopefully this went well; emotional manipulation wasn't his strong suit. He was more of a 'detect threat, dispose of threat' kind of guy.

* * *

Severus Snape frowned as his wand suddenly felt heavy and unfamiliar in his grip, before the feeling passed as if it had never been. That was certainly peculiar.

 _'"I, Severus Tobias Snape, swear...'"'_

Unbeknownst to him, his magical core had briefly surged in order to provide extra magic to something he had sworn over a decade ago.

 _'"...swear upon my magic that I will protect...'"'_

The Unbreakable Vow had detected another factor.

 _'"'...I will protect Lily's son."'_

Magic didn't care about paternal parentage, after all, as long as Lily's blood ran true. The thread of magic created by the vow that bound Severus Snape to Harry Potter split into two, the newer one snapping into place around Gaara.

* * *

 _ ***Upbeat jingle plays***_

 **Ask Kankuro!**

 _ **'If the Killing Curse hit a Jinchuuriki, what would happen to them?'**_

'Well, there has been speculation, but that's it; considering that Jinchuuriki are valuable assets, no Village is going to take the risk. The most widely accepted theory is that the outcome depends on the type of seal used to create each Jinchuuriki. General consensus is that Bijuu are sapient energy, so they don't have any biological systems to stop or soul to rip out, but they can be dispersed for several years before being able to reform.

It's theorised that some seals...

Hey, Slyfox, why is the rest of this transcript missing?'

 _Slyfox looks up from laptop, processes the question, then hurriedly closes the laptop and makes a break for the studio door. Kankuro pulls them back with chakra strings and they giggle nervously._

'You took this out because of spoilers, didn't you? Why do I get the feeling that I won't like what it says? What's going to happen to Gaara and/or Naruto Uzumaki?!'

 _Slyfox hurriedly spams handsigns. "God-Author no jutsu!"_

 ** _*calming music plays*  
We are currently experiencing  
technical difficulties.  
Please stand by._**

 ** _*Beep!*_**

 _Kankuro sits in the trashed studio, scowling and holding a different piece of paper._

'Thanks to God-Author no jutsu, I have to let that slide and answer this question instead as a replacement'

 _ **'How long does it take to put on your Kabuki makeup in the morning?'**_

'Really? Fine.

Not that long, actually. Put it depends what method you use. Some of the old crowd are purists, because they insist you should only do it with a pot and brush. Which takes roughly 20 minutes. Personally, I use the quicker method; the soft wax-based paints are shaped into sticks so you just draw on your face. Takes about 6-7 minutes.  
Since it's wax-based, it stays on without fading for roughly three days, so if you're stuck on a mission, you don't need to reapply it if you don't have the time.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to worry about and plan for...''


	17. The Students

**IMPORTANT A/N: Random OC Doctor Wilkes got a lot of respect and praise last chapter for raising the topic of Harry's abuse to Gaara and Kankuro. Nevertheless,** Born To Sleep **pointed out that this is NOT the way to go about alerting people to a potential (child)abuse case.  
I can claim a tiny bit of artistic licence and a lot of ignorance as to writing Doctor Wilkes' actions this way, but please DO NOT do what he did and call out who you think is responsible for the abuse.**

* * *

"Hey! Hey, Neville?!"

Neville whipped his head around at the sound of his name, to see Harry waving as he jogged towards him down Botanik Alley. As he got closer, Neville noticed the new glasses his sort-of friend was wearing. "Harry? Are those- you got new glasses, didn't you?" Harry fairly _beamed_ at him, nearly making Neville stagger back. He'd never seen Harry this happy before; he was practically vibrating, oozing enthusiastic energy.

"Yep!" Harry nodded. "I see much better now, I'll actually be able to see the blackboard in Potions now. And I found some really good story books to take to Hogwarts too!" As he spoke, a man clad in red came up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder in a reassuring kind of way. Jolted out of his chatter, Harry glanced up at the, frankly quite intimidating, man. "Oh, right. Gaara, this is Neville Longbottom. He's in Gryffindor and also in my dormitory. Neville, this is Gaara. He's my...relative on my mother's side."

Neville blinked, stifling an unmanly squeak as blank, greenish eyes, met his. Harry's mother had been muggle-born, hadn't she? He hadn't known muggles, or muggle-borns, could get this frightening! "N-nice to meet you, s-s-sir," he managed to stutter out.

The man's - Gaara's - answer was a contemplative stare and a terse "Likewise". Neville honestly hadn't expected the soft dry voice, he'd thought it would surely be some sort of deep, dragon-like rumble or a crackling hiss like You-Know-Who was rumoured to have had. He promptly decided he would be safer if he didn't stare, or even breathe in the man's direction, and to focus all his attention on Harry, who he at least knew how to talk to.  
"So, uh, what brings you down Botanik Harry?"

"Well, I was saying how I didn't how different Potions ingredients combined with others, and how cutting them up differently changed anything. It's not like there were any books on it when I get my letters for Hogwarts each year, after all. Then Kankuro, Gaara's brother and my kind-of brother by the way, went on a rant about how important these things were and me and Gaara asked Tom at the Leaky Cauldron where we could find some proper books!" Harry held out a copy of _Newts' Eyes and Toe of Frog: A Comprehensive Compendium of Potions Ingredients, Their Properties and Reactions by Lotti Hellmuth_ and one of _Slice and Dice: What's the Difference and Why? by Horatio Dagworth._

Despite his innate nervousness, Neville frowned to himself. "You mean there weren't any Potions books in your acceptance letter?" Harry paused.  
"Well, yeah, and I read them both. But 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi was just plants, how to find them and their properties, no mention of any animal-based ingredients. And Magical Drafts and Potions is just a recipe book."

"I wish Snape would actually teach us this stuff," Neville muttered, sharing a commiserating glance with Harry.

"Neville! Where are you?! NEV! Oh Merlin's saggy unmentionables, Great-Aunty's going to kill me...There you are!" A tall, stringy teenager with auburn hair practically tackled Neville in relief. "You shouldn't wander off like that Neville, if something happened to you your Gran would kill me!"

"Richard!" Neville wailed in embarrassment, flailing in the tight grip. Now that he wasn't so distracted, the teen finally realised who Neville was talking to.  
"Oh, um, Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you in person," he said, offering his hand, that Harry shook. "Sorry about Nev, he just wanders off every time he sees a pretty flower. I swear, one day he's going to wander down Knockturn and get eaten by a Hag; attention span of a pixie, you know? I'm his cousin, Richard Longbottom."

"Leggo, Richie!" Neville squirmed. "I was talking!"

"Yeah, yeah. Like Harry Potter would be friends with a Herbology hermit like you."

Harry frowned. Despite the obviously familial air, the comments and assumptions themselves were rather degrading. "We are friends," Harry insisted. "And it's not like Neville's particularly sneaky, so how did you not notice he was gone? Honestly, you'd have to be the one not paying attention, wouldn't you?"

From the embarrassed blush that stained the older boy's ears, Harry knew that he was right. Deciding to ignore Richard for the foreseeable future, he turned back to Neville. "Tell you what Neville, we can share these books if you want, since you kind of aren't the best in Potions. Also, I think Hermione will want to steal them from me, you know how she is."

"Um...no, I don't." Neville said nervously. "You see, uh...you and Ron and Hermione are really good friends. Don't get me wrong, that's a good thing! But the three of you don't really...talk to anyone else."

"Calm down, Neville, it's okay, I know what you mean," Harry interjected as he saw the other boy becoming more flustered. "In fact, I've decided that this year, I'm going to talk to more people, especially the new students. I mean, Hogwarts was pretty overwhelming when we were First-Years, so I think I should give them a bit of help. Do you want to help out; you know more about Herbology than me, after all?"

Neville visibly brightened. "Yeah, sure! Uh, I'll give you my address so you can owl me," he said excitedly, fishing around in his pocket before pulling out a slip of paper. "And, if we can meet up on the train, we can go through the carriages and introduce ourselves."

"I guess I'll see you on the train then, Neville," Harry smiled taking the piece of paper. "Look, I've gotta get going now, but it's been nice talking to you, and I'll see you soon."

As Harry waved the departing Neville goodbye, he looked up at Gaara. "Um, did I do okay?" Gaara quirked a fondly amused eyebrow.  
"I don't know, did you?"

"Uh-uh, not fair!" Harry whined. "You know more about talking to people than I do, don't ask me to be an expert on these things!"

"I mostly talk to officials with an overinflated idea of their own importance, department heads who are overworked and survive mostly on caffeine and shinobi who run the entire gamut from hyper to lazy to perverted to a bit stab-happy. My family don't count, since we mostly pursue our own separate interests and know each other well enough to not have to talk most of the time."

"Sounds exhausting," Harry commented.

"Tell me about it," Gaara grumbled as they walked. "I swear, I could write a sitcom with the amount of crazy I have to work with. I'm just thankful that I've had Baki's experience behind me, that man is a goldmine on how to handle crazy people."

"He sounds nice."

"He's the most patient man I have ever encountered."

* * *

"He's a _teensy_ bit irritated at the moment," Kokan Nishi commented blithely, as he sat in the waiting room outside the Kazekage's Office.

"I'd never have guessed," Mokichi Omori muttered as he pulled another senbon out of Kokan's shoulder, wrinkling his nose at the smell of singed fabric.

* * *

"Harry," Gaara began once they were back in the hotel room. "I want to ask you something very important. You don't have to give me an answer right away, but I do need one within a few days. Do you want me to send someone to protect you at Hogwarts?"

Harry started in shock at the nature of the question. "Wait, what? I get that I'm a bit of a magnet for trouble, but I can handle myself!"

"I don't want you to have to handle yourself," Gaara sighed, sitting down on the bed. "I'm all for you being capable and independent, but I want you to enjoy your schooling in safety. What if you can't cope with what gets thrown at you next? Aside from the issues I already have with the security of your school, I'd never forgive myself if you got hurt or even killed, and I could have done more to prevent it."

"Okay! Okay, I get that. And I'm really grateful that you care about me like this!" Harry reasoned, pacing back and forth as Hedwig landed on his head. "And I know that you and Kankuro have important jobs and lots of people depend on you to be there. But that means if you send anyone with me to Hogwarts, I'll...I'll just be some random kid! I'll just be something to be watched and protected, not a real person, they don't know me!"

Gaara waved his hand, the suddenness of the gesture cutting Harry off. "So, the issue is that you want to know any guards that you may or may not chose personally, you don't want a total stranger watching over you."

"Yes," Harry said in a small voice, realising how childish he had just sounded.

"How about we compromise?" Gaara suggested, the sound of an idea in his voice. "Go to school without protection up until the Winter break. You can come to Sunagakure and get to know the place and some of the people. Then we can go from there about what would be the best course of action."

Harry pondered the plan. "Yeah. Yeah, it sounds good," he replied. "Sorry for making a big fuss."

"Only because you're my brother. Hopefully one day you'll be able to keep up with the shinobi way of thinking, but until then, I'm happy to explain things to you."

"Is this a bad time?" Kankuro asked, coming in through the door and pausing. "Yes? No?...I'm gonna get a menu from the Indian restaurant round the corner. Be back in five." He shut the door behind him.

A sudden jolt ran through Harry. "Oh no," he groaned. "I need to tell Hermione! And also ask her how to break it to Ron."

 **'Dear Hermione,**

 **I took your advice and asked the Goblins at Gringotts for an Inheritance test. Gaara and Kankuro came round when I asked, and we went together. It came out positive.**

 **So, I have family other than the Dursleys, and I'm really happy and excited! I'm going home to them over the Christmas holidays, and we've arranged to keep in touch through the term.**

 **Oh, I know you'll be proud of me now, since I went and got some new glasses. Turns out, they were the wrong prescription for years; that was why reading books gave me headaches and I could hardly ever see the blackboard. Reading is really fun, and I went and got some extra-curricular books to bring to Hogwarts.**

 **If you want to, you could join this thing I'm starting with Neville. I've resolved to talk to more people this year, especially the First-years. I think they could use the help, considering how overwhelmed we felt as First-years. We've arranged to meet up on the train, so I can see you there?**

 **Also, do you have any ideas on how I can tell Ron about my new family situation? I love the Weasleys, I really do, but they aren't my family. I'll always be very grateful for the kindness they show me, and I'm not planning to abandon them entirely, but I want to spend time with my blood family now. I just don't want Ron to take it too personally, because he's got a bit of a temper and he has a bit of trouble remembering that I don't like the same things he does.**

 **I'll see you at the train station the day after tomorrow then,**

 **Harry.'**

* * *

 _ ***Upbeat jingle plays***_

 **Ask Kankuro!**

 _ **'How would shinobi react to potions like Skelegrow or Liquid Luck?'**_

'While we do have what would be considered variations of Skelegrow, the bones of shinobi tend to be drenched in chakra residue. This is from years of subconsciously diverting chakra to bones and organs to brace for impacts, due to the cohesive nature of chakra, but that's a completely different subject.  
Long story short, normal Skelegrow as brewed and used by Magicals, tends to make shinobi bones fragment into dust due to the imbalance of power ratios. Chakra being the much more powerful forerunner of Magic and naturally very cohesive in it's undirected state inside the body, adding Magic which is much weaker, but also incredibly versatile; miniature ruptures at the cellular level ensues.  
Something about the endothermic breaking of bonds between cells, the intense heat boiling them dry from the inside out? I haven't exactly studied this in a while, but I'm pretty sure that's the gist of it.

Don't worry, the experiments were tested on amputated legs, so no shinobi were...technically...harmed.

Liquid Luck just doesn't work. At least not in the way it's supposed to. Drink it, and your luck swings wildly back and forth between miraculous and 'anus-of-the-universe'. It's so horribly unpredictable horrible, that it's unanimously banned everywhere in the Elemental Nations.'

* * *

 **Hogwarts Express next chapter.**

 **Kokan Nishi and Mokichi Omori are characters from Hourglass, the Baki drabbles I'm now posting.**

 **Review what your favourite moment is so far!**


	18. The Reunion

**I'm sure we're all excited to be getting onto the school year proper, aren't we?**

 **Also, I'm trying to give Ron some proper characterization. Still a bit of a jealous prat at times, but always means well and is intelligent in his own way(remember in canon Prisoner of Azkaban, he was the only one who consistently noticed that Hermione was in two places at once?).**

* * *

"Harry!" Hermione cried excitedly, dashing over and flinging her arms around him. "It's good to see you again! And the glasses look good on you; I'm sorry I nagged you so much about research without even asking why, that was terrible of me but I'm so glad to hear that you like reading because I've got some great series you'd really like-"

"Whoa, whoa, Hermione, remember to breathe, okay?" Harry broke in. She breathed in, and seemed to hold a count before exhaling. She sent him a smile. "Sorry, I'm just so excited that you're finally finding your feet! Oh, and you _have_ to tell me, did the information from the book I sent you help at all?"

He thought briefly back to how Kankuro had laughed his guts out at reading the excerpt in Hermione's letter. "Umm...apparently it's out of date by nearly 300 years and was written by outsiders who barely knew anything about shinobi and assumed far too much?"

Her face fell. "But...but it was written down...and published! Why would anyone put lies in a book?"

"Because books are written by people and people lie, Hermione," Harry stated bluntly, hoping fervently that that was the best way to get her past this. "That, or they're trying to cover up that they don't know everything, so they fill in the blanks with fiction. For crying out loud, just look at Lockhart from last year!" She just stood there with a stunned, forlorn expression and Harry immediately felt his gut twist with guilt.

"Oh God, Hermione I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that, I just-"

"It's fine, young man, no need to worry," a man carrying a pet carrier said calmly, putting his hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I think she needed to hear that. No father likes to break it to his little girl that the world just isn't fair, but I think this is for the best. I'm Dan Granger, her father." He put out his hand to shake, and Harry did so. "You must be Harry; she's told us so much about you."

"Um, thank you Mr. Granger, it's nice to meet you. These are my brothers..." he looked around, standing on tiptoe to try and look over the crowd, "...aaand, they're gone."

"They just abandoned you to get on the train by yourself?" Mr Granger frowned.

"No no," Harry reassured him. "We probably just can't see them. Hang on." He reached down and unclipped the latch on Hedwig's travelling cage, who hissed reprovingly and flew up to settle on his shoulder. "Hey girl, sorry about the cage. But can you fly up and look for Gaara and Kankuro for me? We kind of got separated in the crowd. D'ow!" He yelped as she pecked him on the ear and huffed, before rising above the heads of the milling wizards with a few powerful wingbeats. Just as she hooted in triumph though, the mass of people rippled and a screech like a strangled wolf broke through the hubbub along with the garbled incantations of various spells.

Someone uttered something just behind them that sounded like a curse, before the air shimmered briefly and fell away to reveal the crimson-draped form of Gaara. "Sorry about that everyone, some people took offense to Kankuro bringing Bram with him. Don't worry, nobody will get maimed. I hope, anyway; I shouldn't tempt fate."

"You tempted it by bringing a large, intelligent, vampiric owl into a public place and expecting people not to panic," Harry muttered. "Aren't you worried about either of them getting spelled?"

"Those are decoys," Kankuro said, the air falling away from him, a large brown owl of indeterminate breed perched on his outstretched elbow. "Disguised?" Harry asked, jerking his thumb at the mystery owl.

"Yep. Oh, hey, you're the girl who found that outdated book, aren't you?"

Hermione visibly shrivelled in embarrassment.

"It's a pleasure to meet you young man," Mr Granger said, offering his hand to Gaara, who eschewed it, instead nodding his head briefly. Just then, the train whistle blew, signifying its departure in ten minutes time. Without warning, Gaara swept his arms around Harry in a hug.

"Stay safe, okay?" He whispered in Harry's ear. "Write in the journal about anything, I'll listen. Try your best and don't be afraid to stand up for yourself."

"I'll be okay," Harry mumured back. "I mean, I've got you and Kankuro and Temari now."

"Fujin-kami-sama, the fluff is killing me," Kankuro snarked. "I'll be coughing up hair-balls for hours. On the bright side, I now have blackmail of the Kazekage hugging in public."

"Is that a request for me to dock your paycheck and assign you D-ranks for the next month?"

"Shutting up, Kazekage-sama."

* * *

The signature Weasley red hair was easy enough to track, so they found Ron quite quickly. The apartment had a sleeping adult in it, which was most likely why it had been the only one left devoid of students before they arrived.

"I thought he'd be good protection in case Malfoy or his goons came sniffing around," Ron grinned. "They wouldn't dare try anything with a grown wizard here; witness, see?"

Hermione momentarily stunned by this flash of brilliance, Harry took the opportunity to ask Ron about Egypt.

"It was amazing Harry! Stinking hot though, thank Merlin for cooling charms. Bill told us all about these gruesome curses the Pharaohs got their Court Wizards to put on the different chambers. Sounded a lot like the Third Floor back in First Year Harry, you remember? They had this little clay dolly in a cage because it still had runes animating it after all these years, and they were trying to figure out how it worked. The twins wanted to have a go at holding it, but Mum didn't trust them because they tried to lock Percy in the pyramid. Scabbers hasn't been feeling well since we got back, the foreign food didn't agree with him probably, but I got some Rat Tonic, so he should be feeling better soon.

How have you been Harry? Did the Muggles treat you right?" His voice lowered on the last question as he glanced towards the gently-snoring man in the corner seat.

Harry glanced as well, internally debated for a few seconds, then decided that he didn't care what the Wizarding World thought about his brothers and went for it. "Actually Ron, I found out that I have half-brothers. Technically."

Apparently it was possible to choke on thin air.

"What?!" Ron wheezed once he stopped spluttering. "But that means...your mum or your dad?" Harry saw the assumption.

"Oh! Oh no, not like that Ron. It was...Muggles have a thing where you can donate sex cells to help people who are infertile. It's not cheating or anything, but children from donor cells have to be told who their donor parents are by law. Turns out my mum donated before she got married. We started writing to each other just after I got back from Hogwarts and we met up over the holidays. They're both brilliant."

"Wait wait wait, back up a minute," Ron said hurriedly, holding up his hands. "So...through some Muggle science thing, you now have more family. And you've known since the beginning of the holidays and didn't think to, I don't know, tell your best mate?"

"Ron, you were in _Egypt_!" Harry retorted. "You just said you were having a great time with your brother Bill! I wanted you to keep having an amazing time and not worry about me, that's why I didn't write!"

"I worried about you _anyway_!" Ron roared, seizing Harry by the shoulder of his jumper. "Me and the twins were scared that the Muggles would be horrible to you again and we wouldn't be able to come and save you again _because_ we were in Egypt! If you'd told us about your new family, _then_ we would've stopped worrying!" He breathed heavily for a moment, before his voice took on a pleading tone.

"Merlin's sake, Harry, stop with the self-sacrificing thing, _please_. It scares me that you never think about yourself, never do anything for yourself. Just talk to someone, okay?"

"This...that's why you always ask me for a game of Wizard Chess, even though I'm useless at it," it dawned on Harry. "All this time...you're the best friend I could ask for Ron," he said, hugging the other boy. "And don't worry, my new brothers helped me get my head screwed on straight about a few things. You don't have to keep winning at Wizard Chess this year."

The moment was interrupted by a Hufflepuff Prefect opening the carriage door. "I heard shouting coming from here, what's the problem?"

Harry and Ron promptly sprung apart. "Nothing!" "No problem, not now anyway."

He eyed them suspiciously, before his face softened. "Alright, I'll believe that you two just got a bit overexcited. Just keep the noise down, okay? You scared a couple of Firsties in the next carriage."

"We'll go and apologise," Harry announced abruptly, reaching and pulling Hermione lightly to her feet. "I've been meaning to talk to the First-Years anyway, haven't we, Hermione?"

The prefect blinked. "You...want to talk to them? Oh...okay. Why?"

"Well...we just want them to know that they've got nothing to worry about and that that they can always come and ask for help if they need it even if they get into different houses?"

The Prefect stared incredulously for a few seconds, before he held out his hand. "Gabriel Truman. Seventh Year. You're alright, Potter. Who's the guy in the corner?"

"His case says Remus J. Lupin," Hermione piped up. "Doesn't that mean he's our new Defence Professor?"

"I suppose so," Gabriel mused. "I just hope he's competent. Or the new Defence Professor could be somebody different and he's an Assistant Professor or something. Anyway! Firsties, you said?"

* * *

'That really didn't go how I thought it would.' Harry thought to himself as he, Hermione and Neville staggered out to the carriage containing several over-excited First Years. Ron had excused himself within the first few minutes of being mobbed by questions and Neville had tracked them down soon after, thanks to Gabriel's directions.

At least now Harry had the opportunity to ask Hermione about her unusually reticent attitude.

"It's your brothers, Harry!" She burst out once they returned to their own carriage where Ron was sitting, furiously scribbling on a piece of parchment. She hesitated for a second, glancing at the wall to check if she was being too loud, before taking a deep breath. "Harry, I'm happy for you, I really am! But that doesn't mean I forgive your brother for being rude to my dad."

"What are you talking about Hermione, nothing...is this about how he didn't shake your dad's hand?"

"Yes! That's just plain _rude_ Harry!"

Hermione didn't expect her friend to crack an amused grin. "Hermione, Gaara and Kankuro come from a different culture where touching hands is a super big thing that you don't do with people you literally just met. Back where they come from, that nod Gaara gave your dad would be seen as the appropriately polite greeting."

"Oh," she said hollowly, slumping back onto her seat. "I guess I got a little carried away. I didn't think about the cultural boundaries. I messed up." Harry sat down beside her, awkwardly patting her on the shoulder.

"It's okay Hermione. You didn't act on what you thought so there's no damage to be sorry for. You're still the brightest witch of our age."

She blinked a nervous smile at him.

"I suppose it's a good thing they slipped away when they did," Harry expounded. "If either of them, or possibly Bram, had been hit with a spell, that could have been a major diplomatic incident." At the two wide-eyed stares he received, he explained. "Oh...I guess I forgot to mention the part where Gaara's the Minister of Magic Equivalent where he's from?"

It was Hermione's turn to have a meltdown over how she barely avoided plunging the Wizarding World into war. Ron merely paled drastically. An impressed whistle sounded from the doorway.

"You know, I've heard about the Potter Luck, but now I think I'm actually starting to believe it," Blaise Zabini mused out loud.

Ron sneered defensively, Hermione closed in on herself and Harry's face lit up. Blaise stepped back, hands held up in a gesture of surrender as Ron drew his wand. Only for Harry to grab his wrist, which stopped the jinx from forming on his lips. "Harry, what gives?!"

Harry got up and stepped between them and Blaise. "Guys, guys, it's fine! I arranged to meet up with Blaise on the train when we ran into each other at Gringotts."

"Potter," Blaise drawled exasperatedly. "It did not go like that. I ran into your half-brother at Gringotts, you got yourself in a snit, I owled you an offer to help you learn Etiquette and you scared both my mother and myself by sending a 5X-Class Magical Creature to reply yes. That does not make us friends, we are acquaintances." He turned on Ron and Hermione before the accusations could pass their lips.

"There were absolutely no compulsion, mind, perception or love spells or potions involved in any way, shape or form. One does _not_ do that to the beloved relative of the Minister of a community of battle mages who has a pet Strix."

Silence reigned.

"You're a Slytherin," Ron said numbly.

"I applaud your observation skills Weasley. Would you like me to repeat what I just said?"

"No, no," Ron shook his head. "You're a Slytherin. Why wouldn't you want to be friends with the brother of a Minister of Magic?" Everyone stared at Ron at this piece of logic.  
"I am going to hex Malfoy's perfect little face for telling everyone you're stupid, Weasley," Blaise mumbled, loud enough for everyone to hear. "What?" He said a little louder. "Slytherins stick together, yet you've never noticed that Malfoy only ever has Crabbe and Goyle backing him up? His whining isn't popular among his own House, regardless of how rich his father is. And I don't really fit in either on principle."

Before either Harry, Ron or Hermione could aske for clarification, they all had to throw out their arms to steady themselves as the train screeched to a halt and the lights went off.  
"Lumos," they heard Blaise's voice say and a globe of light flickered into existence.

"This isn't supposed to happen." Hermione's voice was small, frightened. In the ensuing quiet, a soft crackling sound pervaded the air as the condensation on the window began to ice over.

* * *

 _ ***Upbeat jingle plays***_

 **Ask Kankuro!**

 _If a shinobi won a battle with a Magical and took their wand, would it work for them?_

'We are reliably informed that wands rarely change allegiance if their owner is still alive. When the owner dies however, the wand will work...up to a point. It begins to overheat for want of a better word, since it's made for channelling magic, not chakra. I remember saying in my section last chapter that chakra is naturally cohesive and residue tends to build up. Wands are no exception, apparently. A wand used by a shinobi, having chakra forced through it, will start to just not work. Forcing it causes the wood to char and flake, before it reaches breaking point and combusts. Fortunately, whatever magical core was used survives, so the Elemental Nations got something out of it.'

* * *

 **Like before, read, enjoy and review if you can.**


	19. The Incident

**Due to popular demand, here is the incident at the station. As a flashback. Also, Amelia Bones decided to be written as a responsible guardian this chapter. I have this horrible feeling that she may become a main character somehow...why do my stories do this?**

* * *

Amelia Bones groaned and took a large swig of Calming-Draught-laced tea before picking up the sheaf of paper again. Merlin, Morgana and Maeve, she had enough on her plate with Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban, she didn't need two frighteningly powerful diplomats taking Harry-Bloody-Potter under their wing and running all over the country!

This report...the Aurors she had stationed at the Kings Cross Station, Magical and Muggle sides both, had been there to watch for any sightings of Black, given the man's established interest in Potter. As well as the usual routine duty of spotting for illicit items, the busy station an ideal place to exchange such things in all the chaos.

The detectors installed in the Station Master's office had detected an unusually strong source of Protection Magic and a pair of Aurors had gone out to track down the source and possibly bring the person or persons in for a quiet interview.

At this point, the written report invited Amelia to view the small bottle of memory attached. Sighing in resigned frustration, she bent down and pulled out her official penseive from a compartment under her desk. She poured in the memory of one Senior Auror Woodruffe, before deciding that a Third Person perspective would be more tolarable, and dipped her finger in.

 _She saw Senior Auror Kenneth Woodruffe and his partner Junior Auror Lucian Bowman weave their way through the bustling crowd, homing in on a tall flash of crimson that made her gut sink._

 _"Uh, excuse me, sorry, coming through, watch your back there ma'am. Sir? Sir! Excuse me sir, but we'd like to ask you a few-" "Merlin's Beard! Is that a Strix?!" Woodruffe interrupted Bowman, drawing his wand._

 _Amelia watched the tall, black-hooded man from before turn towards her two men with, indeed, a Strix perched on his arm. A well-fed one, judging from the intensity of the red in it's feathers, but that was no guarantee of peaceful behaviour when it came to a Strix._

 _Oh, and the Strix was unrestrained. In any way._

 _No doubt the man had his own way of keeping it under control - she had seen his restraining spell in affect on Mr Dursley - but that was just avoiding the matter of there being a blatant violation of Code Scamander(named after the infamous incident in New York), of an unrestrained Magical Creature in a public area with the well-being of bystanders at risk and a possible breaking of the Statute of Secrecy._

 _"Sir, you are in direct violation of a Code Scamander," Woodruffe announced, keeping his wand trained on the bird. "The animal in question will now be immobilised and confiscated with extreme prejudice by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."_

 _"Please don't point those things in my general direction," the man said calmly, what was his name, something foreign...Kankuro, that was it! Ooh boy...this definitely wouldn't end well.  
"What did you do this time, Kankuro?" Gaara said wearily, turning around. "Why is it, everywhere we go somewhere new, you end up causing a scene?"_

 _"I do not!"_

 _"Our first C-rank with that merchant. That time in Little Flower Outpost. You threatened to beat up the Sandaime Hokage's grandson for bumping into you. I rest my case.  
_ _Now, gentlemen, what is your problem with Bram?"_

 _"Unrestrained Magical Creature in a public area, sir," Junior Auror Bowman recited dutifully. "Bystanders at risk, sir. Sorry, sir."_

 _"If I know bureaucracy, it's useless to say that we have Bram perfectly under control and we have no time for this, isn't it?" Gaara said, with a note of resignation._

 _"If you attempt to run, we have to assume that this breach is malicious and pursue and arrest accordingly," Woodruffe warned, adjusting himself into a pursuit-casting stance as Bowman clumsily copied him._

 _"A game of tag it is then," Kankuro chuckled darkly. There was a puff of white smoke and the two men and the Strix disappeared. But Woodruffe had been tutored by Alastor Moody and knew how to observe his surroundings. It took him only a few seconds to locate the two of them perched far over head on one of the metal rafters, the Strix hovering next to them with steady wingbeats._

 _The two Aurors began raining spellfire, but each bolt was neatly dodged. By this point, the crowd had parted around them and were either looking up in awe or hustling themselves and their friends and family away to safety._

 _The two foreigners then proceeded to run upside down on the roof - Amelia's jaw dropped at the sight - until they reached the edge, then flipped themselves onto the very top of the station. However, once her two Aurors had reached the designated Apparition zone and Apparated to the top of the roof, all three were gone. Even Woodruffe's Apparition-tracking spell wouldn't lock onto anything. They had quite literally disappeared into thin air._

Amelia Bones pulled her mind from the Penseive and pondered what she had seen. She applauded her two men for upholding the law the best they could, but she wasn't even sure she had the authority to arrest a foreign dignitary, especially one that co-ruled a country and commanded an army. She checked her Conduct of Office Manual. No, no she didn't. She could deliver an official warning, but only with the permission of the Minister of Magic. Oh, she had submitted her report on finding _two foreign dignitaries_ , but she was never sure if Cornelius actually understood what he read, ever.

For the moment, the hunt for Sirius Black took top priority. At least the two men had attached themselves to Harry Potter for whatever reason and seemed to have no qualms when it came to defending him.

* * *

The breathing of the five of them echoed loud in the silence, broken when the strange Mr Lupin in the corner whispered an urgent "Quiet!"

Harry could see Hermione poised to ask a million questions, but then a wave of cold washed over all of them and they all shivered down to the bone. A black and clammy hand, thin and bony like a starving man's, wrapped itself around the edge of the door. It was tall, tall as Hagrid maybe, but thin and slimy in a veiled way, like hanging moss from the depths of a stinking cavern. This peculiar parody of the Grim Reaper wore death and decay with an ease and naturalness that was profoundly wrong. Like Miss Havisham had drowned in ink and spider-silk and been wrung rice-paper dry in the gales of an arid wasteland.

Harry felt a distant screaming in the back of his head get louder and more intelligible and the world faded into black.

 _"No, not Harry! Take me instead!"_

 _A chilling flash of green, green light...'_

"Harry!"

"Come on, wake up mate!"

"Dammit all, Potter, wake up!"

He was shaken awake just in time to see a silvery mist burst from Mr Lupin's wand and wrap itself around the thing, which fled almost reluctantly. The haunting chill eased nearly immediately.

"What happened?" He blurted out at seeing the anxious faces of Hermione, Ron and even Blaise staring down at him. Even though Blaise had the wrong skin colour to truly pale in fright, he still looked pretty wan as he muttered. "Dementor. _Porco giuda_ soul-sucking beast and the Ministry sends them to guard their _own children._ "

"Language!" Lupin chided exhaustedly, before holding out a brightly-wrapped bar of something. "Chocolate; it helps. I'll check on the other carriages, marshal the prefects. I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know. Share it out among you." With that, he vanished down the corridor.

"He's right, eat some," Blaise said, guiding Harry's hands to clumsily peel open the wrapper. "Meso-American thing, has stabilizing properties when infused with a touch of Hearth-magic. Dementors don't like too much Hearth-magic, it's like stinging nettles to them."  
Engaged in the information Blaise was giving out, Harry took a bite of the bar and immediately felt a warmth flowing through him. He started breaking off chunks and handing them out, and he saw a similar relief on his friends' faces as they dug in.

"Well, the Ministry is screwed," Ron said sullenly. At their questioning glances, he elaborated, surprised that they hadn't grasped it yet. "Brother of a foreign Minister," he said pointing at Harry. "Exposed to Dementors at their orders, on their land. I think your brothers are going to be _livid_ Harry."

"My mother is going to flip out as well," Blaise chipped in. "Even though she doesn't have that much political clout, she still knows how to ruin people, and I'm sure the rest of the Zabini will be enraged on principle. It might be the same for you, Weasley, but at least you're a British Pureblood. It's true though, that I shudder in anticipation to think what your brothers will do, Potter."

* * *

Amelia Bones shuddered at the thought of what the two men would do once this inevitably got back to them.

"Are you alright, Auntie?" Susan Bones' face was creased with worry as it gazed up at her from the mirror(guilt-tripping James Potter and Sirius Black into making her a set had been the best decision she'd ever made).  
"I'm perfectly fine Susan, it's just that...the playing field is changing and this Dementor incident you've told me about may set a nundu, not a mere kneazle, among the pigeons. I'm pretty certain I can get Law Enforcement through relatively unscathed, though."

"That bad...Auntie, Sirius Black was You-Know-Who's lieutenant and now he's escaped, is this anything to do with You-Know-Who?"

"No dear, it's not him. And I think Sirius Black wouldn't have a snowball's chance against an incendio when it came to...well, I'm sure it'll be in a special edition of The Prophet within the week. In the meantime, I want you to stay away from the Dementors; practice the Cheering Charm, keep some chocolate on hand and wear that amulet I gave you from the Family Vault. Love you."

"Yes Auntie, love you too."

The mirror reverted back to a normal reflective surface and Amelia took the ensuing silence and momentary privacy of her office to let loose a torrent of swearwords in a variety of English slang and dialects that would have made a hag gape. Once she had gotten a grip on her emotions, Amelia smoothed her robes, replaced her monocle that had fallen out during her tirade, and reached for her stock of expensive parchment and best quill. Hopefully a pre-emptive strike would go some way to smoothing out the damage the Minister's inept bumbling had caused. It could be the difference between alliance and war.

 **'Urgent missive to Lord Gaara and Puppet Master Kankuro.**

 **Apologies for my brusqueness, but there has been an incident on the Hogwarts Express, with particular involvement of Harry Potter. Given your self-proclaimed guardianship over him, you have a right to know.**

 **With Sirius Black at large, the Minister declared, despite protest from many, it most efficient to have Dementors guard Hogwarts, given that Black had declared his intention while incarcerated to visit the place. The knowledge that Dementors are drawn to strong emotions such as happiness and excitement was, it seems, forgotten. My offer to provide my best men and women were passed over, to my frustration. Already certain people are working to get these creatures away from our children, our future.**

 **However, the Dementors took the opportunity of the Hogwarts Express being in transit to conduct a search. This led to many of the children being scared and intimidated. Harry Potter was the worst affected, given his orphan status, suffering a mild fainting spell.**

 **I implore that you do not act hastily against the Ministry, nor tar us all with the same brush. I ask that we exchange correspondence in the hopes of settling this without the use of violence.**

 **Yours respectfully,**

 **Madame Bones  
Director of Department of Magical Law Enforcement'**

Clutching tightly the now wax-stamped letter, she strode down to the Ministry Owlry, the grim determination in her gait sending Aurors scurrying out of her way.

"I need a fast owl with War-setting enchantments!" She announced to the hundreds of perches filled with every shape, stripe and spot of owl. From the dim shadows high above, a common Barn Owl fluttered down and stood to attention on an empty perch in front of her. She tapped the bird lightly on the head, activating the War-setting that had last been used in the war against Voldemort. These made the owls nearly faster than the human eye could see and provided limited shielding from spells. It was what had enabled Ministry communication in the last war and a lot of people owed their lives and families to the Unspeakable that had created the enchantments.

She attached the letter to the bird's leg. "To the men named Gaara and Kankuro please, quickly now."

It rose from the perch, adjusted it's wing-beats to the new magic, and blurred through the owlry window.

* * *

" _Kankuro,_ " Gaara said, in a particular tone that had an old childhood instinct sparking down his spine. It was snakeskin-dry, dripping with venomous contempt and coiled like an overwound clock spring ready to snap. It was the same as _back then,_ the rare voice that signalled that this rage was not some twisted maniacal hunger for existential reassurance, but calculated, guile, and _totally controlled_ vengeance.

Even Sirius Black's dog form, despite not knowing what Gaara could do, what they were saying in their own language, what that voice _meant,_ shivered and lay flat with his muzzle buried between his paws.

Then Kankuro's finely tuned shinobi instincts snapped into a higher gear, and he let his grin pull at his cheeks as his eyes locked on the black notebook in which the entry had appeared. "Littlest Brother is in trouble already? You're using your cruel voice, so who is to die?"  
Even though it was not the first time he had seen this, it still mesmerised Kankuro to see his little brother suck in a shallow breath and forcibly relax every muscle in his body. Baki probably never knew how much damage that meditation little trick had saved; he deserved every drop of the bottle of Very Nice wine they had bought him and more.

"Harry," Gaara announced, voice back to completely calm and genial now, a slight twitch of the left eyelid the only indication of his bottled anger. "was caught in the crossfire of a search conducted upon his train by _soul eating_ creatures whose very presence causes mental trauma and are barely controlled by the Ministry that claims to have them under it's thumb. Fortunately, a teacher was on site to drive the being off. Had the man not been on hand...'"

Kankuro eyed his cup of tea, which suddenly seemed a little nauseating after hearing about such a close call. "What do we do?"

"I promised Harry that I wouldn't send him a guard until he'd visited Suna, and I intend to keep that promise."

Kankuro silently concurred. Children with a history of emotional abuse by the hands of authority figures in particular did not cope well with the breaking of promises to them from someone they had begun to trust.

"It is my thought that, instead, it is the root of this problem that must be dealt with. The Ministry would benefit from a visit, I think." Kankuro noticed the missing 'from us' or 'we' from the last sentence, but decided to play his part of Devil's Advocate.  
"We have a deadline; we promised we'd rescue Baki from the paperwork, he can't stand in for us forever. People will think we've deserted."

"And if we kept flitting about like moths, we would look desperate, I know. I think Temari deserves the chance to bond with her new little brother, don't you?"

With a sweep of white, a barn owl landed on their table, feathers fizzing with energy to their senses. it waited expectantly as Kankuro look the letter and read it over. "Bones-buchō is attempting to safeguard her department from our retribution. She wishes to open correspondence, to build sympathy and gain information."  
Gaara checked his watch.  
"The train hasn't reached the school yet. To get this information so quickly, she must have a child among the students. That's good to know. As much as I would like to decimate their Ministry, I have more self-restraint. Also, Harry is not a citizen or shinobi of Sunagakure or the Land of Wind, so it's not even a diplomatic incident."

"Pump for information?" Kankuro raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Starting with some court records, I think; a Kage must always backup his information from a separate source. I think I shall write to Harry now and ask him if he would like to spend some time with his new sister."

* * *

 **THE DAILY PROPHET**

 **FOREIGNERS IN DIAGON?  
Boy-Who-Lived cultivates foreign connections?**

 _Written by Edith Waffley_

'Shoppers in Diagon, whether regulars or preparing for a new year at Hogwarts, were bemused to see the iconic Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, being accompanied by two foreign men. Bystanders attest that the two had a 'powerful and unnerving presence', as well as a strange mode of dress. Upon seeing the armoured crimson battle-robe and the black hood with ritualistic facial markings, this reporter believes that Diagon Alley has played host to a foreign Auror and possibly a foreign Unspeakable!  
This reporter wonders why these two men would choose to be so protective over own young hero? Perhaps Harry Potter has sought friends abroad? If so, it is surely a warm welcome from Magical Britain to these two representatives.

The Goblins of Gringotts declined to comment on the strangers' visit to their establishment, citing urgent business due to a recent changeover of staff. Several customers who were present at the time, did come forward to say that they heard the stranger in black state that he was not a wizard, since he did not use a wand. Some, however, questioned out loud to this reporter that the man used a wandless Accio and silent apparition within the infamous and formidable wards of Gringotts! And might the man not be some sort of creature?  
Of course, it is only expected that other countries would have lower standards for their Aurors and Unspeakables; letting creatures join is proof. Nevertheless, we must make acknowledge that other countries would have lower standards during their slow advancement to standards such as ours.

Florean Fortescue(62), long-time owner of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, commented that the two men 'were perfectly civil-like, they were, treated young mister Potter to an ice-cream they did. I won't hold with any Dark creatures in my 'stablishment, but there was nary a peep that showed they was Dark or Creature. So as long as the money's good, you'll hear no quarrel from me."

This reporter looks forward to seeing if the Boy-Who-Lived shall have kept this entourage by his next visit, or if we shall hear from the Ministry about these visitors to our fair shores?

 _Now, turn to page 2 for a continuation of our front-page article, keeping you up-to-date with the latest on the hunt for Sirius Black..._ '

Xenophilius Lovegood twiddled the days-old copy of The Prophet in between his fingers with a nervous sigh. He just hoped his little moonbeam had enough Butterbeer corks and radishes to get her through the year. He would make sure to send more; he know that she didn't want him to worry, but he wasn't blind as to how she had been mysteriously missing things when she came home last year.  
He wasn't sure what sort of change these two strangers would bring, but he hoped it would be the best for his daughter's future.

* * *

Temari blinked in surprise as Mokichi Omori entered the room at her 'come in'. She knew him, of course, he was a close friend of Baki-sensei and a medic who would keep things quiet if certain people requested it, but she didn't know him well enough to expect a visit from him.  
There was also the matter of his appearance being a cause for surprise. His usually spotless uniform had a large wet patch down the front of the flak-jacket that looked sticky and smelled very herbal, and his hair was tousled as if it had had fingers run through it repeatedly in nervousness.

"I'm worried about Baki," he said.

* * *

 _ ***Upbeat jingle plays***_

 **Ask Kankuro!**

'Look, I wanted to do the pop culture question because that stuff is interesting, but Slyfox said to wait until Chapter 20 to make it even, and I am _not_ sulking!'

 _What types of clones are most common in Suna and which do you use?_

'Well, sand, obviously. Sand bunshin are completely different to Doton bunshin because of the nature of sand's composition and how the particles act. Because of this, sand bunshin are more difficult in getting them to stay in shape, but they have the balancing advantage of being able to trap your opponent's limbs or weapons.

Personally, I like to use one of my puppets. But only when there's no danger of the puppet being destroyed, like by a Katon jutsu. In which case I can just use a Doton bunshin, given that I'm Earth natured.'

* * *

 **Lupin with a side serving of Dumbledore next chapter. I'm sorry to break it to a lot of people, but Gaara won't be meeting Dumbles for a while, much less tearing a strip off him like I'm sure you're all wishing for.  
At least Temari will be getting a chance to shine and kick ass.  
**

 **Also, I thought my comparison of a Dementor to Miss Havisham rather accurate, if you look at some of the older illustrations. And if you haven't seen Bellatrix Lestrange being melancholy and off-kilter in a rotting Victorian wedding dress, you should check it out.**

 **Because I was feeling Angsty and Epic, I wrote a KHR oneshot Even Dragons Have Their Endings. Because I really couldn't picture Xanxus dying peacefully in his sleep.**


	20. The Return

**Hello again! Bit of a wait I know, but I had three deadlines to meet simultaneously as well as a personal emotional issue to sort out. But now we're back!**

 **Also, some lovely person has made Tvtropes pages for both Hearts are All as False as Stairs of Sand. Dem Bones Dem, Dry Bones as well.**

* * *

Bram wasn't too fond of this searing heat beating down on him, even if it did provide some wonderful thermals. But still, he preferred the dusk and the night. The city in the near distance was magnificent, despite obviously still being under repair. The arid sandstone baked in the crystal, shimmering heat as workmen hopped and scampered busily over the structures, walls and columns blossoming under their hands.

Seeing the sentries patrolling the cliffs and layered terrace, Bram dipped, feeling the dry air rippling through the barbs on his primaries, before pulling up a little to keep pace on the same level as his new keepers and the shifter-wizard.

"Kazekage-sama, Kankuro-sama!" The Jonin in charge of the sentry shift cried, right fist momentarily slammed over the left side of his chest in salute. The large nin-scorpion on his shoulder waved it's claw in a similar manner. "Good to have you back."

"Good to be back," Gaara sighed good-naturedly. "Could you send a call to Admin for me to dig out the form for nin-animal registration; for Bram here? I'd do it myself, but I'd better relieve Baki first." The Jonin looked at Bram and blinked once in surprise. "Not a new summon then. Of course, Kazekage-sama, I'll get the paperwork sent up directly. Also for the...dog?"

"It's alright, your senses aren't deceiving you," Kankuro reassured, unbuttoning the veil part of his hood and letting it hang down and reveal his face. "Sirius Black possesses a unique jutsu and is seeking asylum, claiming innocence to a crime of mass homicide. Black, change back," and the large black dog morphed - not in a puff of smoke, like a Henge - into a rather bedraggled and ragged man.  
"I'll pick up the papers for Black myself Gaara. Duel custody between the Troupe and the Village is form Lilac-245, isn't it?"  
"I'm pretty sure it's Lilac-254, but I could be wrong."  
"Eh, I'll just ask when I get there. Come on Black; don't dawdle! And we'll need to get you some proper clothes before you get sunburn or heatstroke...'"

As Gaara got to the Kazekage Towers, he stretched out his senses. There was the usual contingent of administrators scurrying around, some Genin teams and assorted Chunin and Jonin in the Processing Department receiving their missions and the usual variety of stragglers and errand runners scattered around. And last but not least, there was Baki...in the Infirmary?  
Making his way up through the floors with Bram perched on his shoulder, he swept past all of the shinobi who called out 'hello' with barely a nod. Baki couldn't have gotten injured sitting at a desk and signing forms, so he was sick? But Baki never got sick, he just didn't. He was Baki. Always there. Had he caught that outbreak of Mirage Sickness? But the quarantine in T&I hadn't been lifted yet and there weren't any quarantine barriers around the Infirmary tower; which would have been set up the moment the symptoms were suspected. A sabotage attempt? Not likely; Baki wasn't a poison specialist but he knew how to detect them.

Preoccupied in thought, he nearly ran into Temari.

"Otouto! I heard you were back! Oh, right. It's Baki," she snapped to the point with urgency. "Mokichi Omori, remember him? He came to me and requested a medical intervention because Baki-sensei was behaving strangely and didn't feel well to his senses. Before we can even do anything, Baki just...keels over! The med-nin are running their tests now, they should be almost done."

"Ah, I see. Also...Shikamaru Nara is still here? I thought he would have left by now."

"No, not yet, but soon. He's a bit of a mess still, but pulling himself back together, slowly but surely. Oh, who is this?"

"This is Bram, a species of vampiric owl from the Other Side. Bram, this my older sister Temari." Both bird and woman nodded politely to each other. Temari took Gaara's hand and led him over to sit on one of the plastic waiting chairs lined up against the wall. "C'mon. Sit down and tell me all about my new little brother."

* * *

When Remus Lupin had been contacted by Headmaster Dumbledore regarding the Defence position, it had also been accompanied by some Staff Reports collected by Professor McGonagall. Well, actually, it was Staff Reports of all of his student that he would be teaching; given the high turnover rate for DADA teachers it was standard procedure for the newcomer to be owled previous grades and personality overviews of all of their students. But someone(he wouldn't put it past McGonagall, or even Flitwick) had carefully marked Harry's name with a little asterisk in glossy blue ink.

From what he could gather, Harry had Lily's watchfulness, that tended to clash with James' impulsiveness at times, but generally seemed content to let life carry him forward rather than making his own way. It seemed that history was repeating itself though; first the Marauders and now the Golden Trio. Maybe this time childhood friendships would have a happy ending. There was certainly nothing wrong with a laidback attitude. After all, poor Peter had comfortably averagely-achieved the entire time they'd known each other.

He should've been there, he really should've. Even the wolf knew that; his transformations had gotten bloodier the longer he stayed away from Harry. But it hadn't been as simple as all that. He had researched Blood Wards the moment the mere mention of them had left Dumbledore's mouth and his heart had turned to lead. Blood Wards only cared about blood, specifically the margin they had been set to. These ones would only accept Muggles and Magicals who didn't bear a Dark Mark. Werewolves...no. Well, they could be set to allow Werewolves, but only all Werewolves. All or nothing. And he would never have forgiven himself if one of Voldemort's Werewolves, or Merlin forbid, Fenrir himself, had gotten to the cub just because Remus Lupin wanted...

Anyway, he had comforted himself by sending gifts at Christmas and on Harry's Birthdays over the years, mailed through Muggle Royal Mail since owls carrying packages would definitely be out of place in a Muggle neighbourhood. That he never got any thank-you letters didn't matter, Petunia probably wouldn't have appreciated being reminded of magic. He had taken great care to pick out excusably neutral toys, even some Muggle ones, as well as a few Muggle books, so maybe Harry had mistaken him for a Muggle who therefore shouldn't know about magic? Hopefully once he got a chance to introduce himself, Harry would remember the Mr. R. Lupin who sent him presents?

Apparently not. Harry had reacted with only polite curiosity as one would to a complete stranger. Not even a 'that name rings a bell' or 'he sounds familiar'. The wolf clamoured in his head to reclaim their cub, to hold him close and protect him, make him part of the pack with their scent. But the scent that was already on him had it frozen and whimpering about the claim of a stronger Alpha.  
Remus had seen the black-and-red men, the commotion at the station had been hard to miss, after all. In the heat of the moment and among all the conflicting noise and smells, he had thought nothing of the two and the red one's parting hug. An older friend perhaps, maybe a Hogwarts student who had since graduated in the past two years and had taken Harry under his wing regarding all things magical? But his scent made his hackles rise. He would ask later, once lessons had begun and he could find an opportunity to take Harry aside.

As he feigned sleep, his concern grew. He mentally filed away the knowledge about Lily donating, resolving to spend some time thinking over the hectic events leading up to James' and Lily's wedding and how this slotted into place. But his stomach twisted as young Ron Weasley yelled about Muggles mistreating Harry.

What.

Remus distracted himself from his growing anger with listening to the fact that Lily's other son was a Minister of Magic and a Battle Mage of all things. Lily would have been proud; she would have pursued a career in the Ministry herself if she had gotten the chance, given the stuffy old traditionalists heart attacks by becoming Minister. She would've overturned the place in a heartbeat and made a better world for Harry to grow up in. A world where Slytherins and Gryffindors could be friends. At least Harry had that part down, and Zabini wasn't too bad a choice. The Zabini tended to be neutral but with an inclination toward Wild Magic and political neutrality if he remembered correctly.

And then the train stopped. And the Dementors came. And his priority was the safety of all his students, not just a handful.

* * *

"Concussion." Gaara fought hard to keep the note of incredulity from his voice. A mere concussion had laid his sensei low? Temari looked equally sceptical, but Mokichi just looked pensive.

"Untreated concussion," the med-nin clarified, twisting her hands nervously in the face of two iconic authority figures. "We did have a check-up for it scheduled three months ago, but with resources short and...we had to prioritise and then he reassumed his responsibilities so there just wasn't time. The episodes of nausea, the insomnia, the negative mood-swings; concussion. No doubt the treatment from the field medics and some brief self-applied healing jutsu would have fixed the worst of it right away, but what was left over built and built and would have been brushed off as stress. We're just lucky we caught the swelling at a point were we can fix it. There'll be some residual scarring of course, but he won't be unduly hampered and he'll be able to resume duties as normal."

He had been complaining of headaches for a while now; and then Gaara had probably made it worse by dumping so much work on him.

"But residual chakra usually prevents that kind of thing," Temari asked, confused. "I've seen Baki get up, perfectly fine, after being hurled into a rock-face, so it would have had to have been something...big." Her voice dropped to a whisper as she realised something.

"Baki was in Platoon 8 during the war." Mokichi's voice was small as he followed her train of thought. "They were caught almost directly under the meteors. Luckily, somebody thought of overpowering Hidden Mole jutsu to escape underground and they got out with only minor injuries. It was odd, someone must have got caught in the shockwave that went through the ground and Baki was the last one to go under...'" He swallowed a groan and walked towards the door into Baki's room, closing it behind him.

The silence broken by the shutting of the door, Gaara turned back to the med-nin. "I assume that you'll want to keep Baki asleep for the next few days, give him time to rest."

"Yes, Kazekage-sama, and once we've woken him up we can determine where we can go from there, but we don't expect any complications."

"Keep us updated," Gaara commanded as he rose from the chair, Temari following his lead at a glance from him.

"Of course, Kazekage-sama."

They walked in silence through the corridors, until they reached a balcony.

The harsh, hot air stung the back of Gaara's throat in a familiar and comforting way as he took a deep breath. "I know this is asking a lot Temari, especially at a time like this, but I need somebody to go to the Other Side and throw some weight around as well as be there for Harry."  
She skimmed her fingers over his knuckles briefly.

"It's okay, I'll go. After all, you and Kankuro have already had time with him, now it's my turn. And I'll take Shikamaru with me as well; it shows that you have other allies and we'll pass close to Konoha on the way back anyway, so it all works out."

"Thank you. Oh, and feel free to play up the foreign royalty angle, they've got a big thing for noble lineages over there. Maybe pack some of your ceremonial clothes?"

"Right. I suppose Shikamaru would enjoy being a standoffish noble and not talking to anyone. And he sort-of accidentally packed some of the paraphernalia for his inauguration when he came here, so he can use that. Just keep me informed about Baki."

"You know I will."

* * *

It was a delicious feast; the Hall echoed with talk, laughter and the clatter of knives and forks. Far above most of the chaos, Dumbledore leaned over to Remus Lupin.

"My dear boy, I just want to say once again how happy we are to have you back with us."

"Oh no, Headmaster, thank _you_ for inviting me."

The elderly Wizard merely waved a placating hand. "No, no. Call me Albus, please; you are no longer a student here and are a grown Wizard in your own right. I am _so_ proud of you, Remus." Soft, twiggy fingers patted Lupin's shoulder gently as he blinked away the wetness in his eyes.

"You're too kind sir- I mean, Albus. Uh, um...Merlin's beard, it's strange to call you that. I can feel the Old Lady is glad to have me back."

Dumbledore laughed heartily, slapping Remus lightly on the back. "Come now Remus! Heartening it is to see you retain your imagination!" His voice dropped to a lower, genial register. "But someday you will find that not everything is quite as mystical and wondrous as those halcyon days of childhood make it out to be."

"Merlin's sake Albus," Madam Pomfrey interjected impatiently. "Stop prattling and let the poor boy eat his potatoes! Remus dear, you are _far_ too thin, have some more chicken." Remus lifted up his hands in surrender as she hefted up the large platter and piled slices of the tender meat onto his plate.

"I'm fine thank- no, wait! That's enough for me Madam Pomfrey, I swear!"

"Poppy, Remus, my name is Poppy. And I want none of that self-sacrificing spirit you had when you were a boy, it is not 'a waste' when I give you my potions. If you need anything, you _will_ come to me. Understand?"

"Well, _I'll_ be brewing your Wolfsbane, Lupin." Snape's voice was dry and bitter, just as Remus remembered.

"And I am grateful, _Severus_ Snape," Remus replied succinctly, emphasising his correct pronunciation of the Potion Master's first name. It was time to grow up, after all.

* * *

 ***Upbeat jingle plays***

 **Ask Kankuro!**

 _Who is/was the largest otaku in the EN, or if there is multiple who prefers which genre (moe, mecha, magical girl, syfy supernatural etc. I can already peg hentai)? also Star Trek, Star Wars, etc?_

'Hoo boy, here we go. It's not like I can offer any sort of insight in a cross-Village spectrum, but I can do my best when it comes to Sunagakure.

Pretty much every manga that makes its way into the Village has some sort of fan-base, ranging from large to small. I say fans and not otaku, because most of them don't...really...bother(?) to obsess over it. I mean, it spices up the conversation and all, but they don't let it affect their lifestyle as such. There's a range of genre, but most tend to have a certain element of realism, especially when it comes to fight scenes. The Dragonball franchise...is very divisive. Among the shinobi, anyway. The setting adds a nice bit of escapism, the characters are well built...but the whole 'scream for five minutes straight for one attack' just grates on some nerves. You _can_ ignore it, but it's still dancing the line between escapism and 'pull the other one'.  
I...really wouldn't know about romance; it's not my thing. I do know there's 'cute' romance and 'adult' romance manga floating around, but I can't say who's got it at the moment.

I do know that some of the darker and gorier ones are enjoyed among a few shinobi, like Devilman, but lighter ones like Space Pirate Captain Harlock have a much wider fan-base. As a serious story, the magical girl genre tends to get a bit of a ribbing; it's easier to think of them as parodies or comedies rather than end up cringing trying to take them seriously. There's a new one called Sailor Moon trickling through the Village, actually.  
On a side note, once we get the cinema up and running, we can go back to having marathon nights, that'll be nice. Sometimes, if there's no recent movie showing, we'll put on some anime showings. The gory or adult ones get shown after certain times, of course, and if you miss some episodes because you're away on a mission or something, there's a high chance that anime will get another showing soon. It's considered unspoken common courtesy not to spoil an episode or volume for somebody; people have been almost-strangled for less, you know?

Star Wars. It is very popular. Given that it's also very popular on the Other Side, I'm sure you know what I'm referring to when it comes to the fan-base it has. The Tsuda Triplets actually ran around Henged as Ewoks for a day, every so often we still get semi-joke requests to try and build an AT-AT and, uhh...the Sarlacc got some interest at the beginning, but it quickly died down since with Suna being in a desert and having the Worms...Worms are more terrifying, okay?

Gaara and the department heads think Star Trek is hilarious, actually. It's like the 1001 ways that diplomacy can and will go wrong. And as the ones who get landed with diplomacy, it's a fun parody. Other people enjoy it for that as well as some of the storylines, but mostly it's a little bit 'meh'. Don't tell anyone, but Bones reminds of Baki a bit. It's my life's mission to get him to say 'he's dead Jim'.

Doctor Who is popular, yes. I don't really know what else I can say about it. The Master is pretty smooth, I mean, you've got to admire that kind of control and charisma. He'd probably win at some point if he just resisted the urge to gloat. Also, Tom Baker might be the favourite when it comes to acting and general performance, but Peter Davison's pretty hot. From both an objective and a personal view.

* * *

 **So, yeah. Baki got hit by Madara's meteors and survived with only a concussion.  
** **Also, it is my headcanon that, instead of simply running, a lot of shinobi went underground to avoid the meteors, thus lowering the overall death toll. Because, y'know, THEY CAN DO THAT.**

 **And the plot thickens...**


	21. The Warnings

***Checks list* Yeah, I think that's everything for the set-up done! *chucks paper away, revealing that it actually says 'I want to write the fun stuff now'.* Time for the Brain Breaking!**

 **If this were an actual book, there would be a blank page saying 'Part Two'. Which works out quite well, considering it breaks even at Chapter 20. Just don't expect there to be a Part Three at Chapter 40, I might be having too much fun to stop there.**

 **This chapter is kind of wrapping-up-last-bits in the first part so all the characters are on the same page. Since some chunks have been copied straight from the book, I've made it longer to compensate.**

* * *

At roughly the same time that the Kazekage returned to his domain, other revelations were happening.

* * *

"So...did Lily tell you anything about her other son?"

Snape dropped his teacup as he choked on his drink in shock. Remus patted him on the back as he coughed and spluttered, repairing the cup with a silent flick of his wand.  
"Sorry, that's a 'no' then? Since you were friends, I thought she might have mentioned her donating to you."

"What...are you ta...lking about?" Snape practically hissed.

"Apparently Lily donated to a Muggle thing so that another couple could have a child, and he got in touch with Harry over the summer?"

 _'"'...swear upon my magic that I will protect Lily's son."'_

"Severus?"

Lupin had said 'he'. Lily had two sons, one not by Potter. But since he never specified in his vow...that odd surge. He thought it had felt familiar to the casting of an Unbreakable Vow. Maybe distance had stopped it connecting before, or Potter's brat acknowledging the other as family? It didn't matter; this was big.

"Tell me everything Lupin. Everything."

* * *

 **'Director Amelia Bones,**

 **While I do not hold any blame toward you or your Department, I can certainly say that I am extremely perturbed by the incompetence and neglect shown in both your Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Since I have claimed Harry Potter as being under my protection, I of course want his safety and education to be the best possible. Given Magical Britain's pronouncement of him as a 'Saviour', I thought that would already be the case.  
** **Having a child yourself, I'm sure you can imagine my horror at finding out that in the past two years, Harry has fought the supposedly-dead self-styled Voldemort twice, a troll that had mysteriously entered the school, acromantula and has also been bitten by a basilisk.**

 **My sister and her fiancé will be arriving within 18 hrs of your receiving of this letter. You have this warning to make whatever preparations you deem necessary for the arrival of Lady Temari, Commander of the Sunagakure Wind Corps, The Tempest Queen and Lord Shikamaru Nara, Chief Strategist of the Konohagakure, The Shroud Tailor.**

 **They will be providing a more tangible presence of my power for the next few weeks. My sister carries my full authority and Lord Nara carries considerable political weight into the bargain.**

 **Lord Gaara, Godaime Kazekage of Sunagakure no Sato, Former Commander of the Allied Forces, Mad Child of The Devouring Sand.'**

"Shit."

* * *

"I'm gonna be sick...'" Shikamaru mumbled as he staggered off of the platform and dashed for a bucket someone was holding out to him.

"Temari-sama?" One of the Gatekeepers asked hesitantly. "Is Nara-sama...?'

"He's fine; just the jutsu we used to get here so fast." She waved it off. "It's something Gaara and I have been working on for a while, but I think the braking system could use a little work. That, and the usual queasiness the translation process gives you...'"

"Of course, of course," the woman muttered, head bobbing furiously. "We are honoured, yes, very honoured, to have the both of you here. Can I offer any refreshments? Tea? Water? Coffee? Maybe some biscuits?"

"Fine, we'll have some water," Temari waved her away, irritation creeping into her voice. Oblivious, the Gatekeeper hurried off in her star-struck daze.

"I hate you...so much," Shikamaru groaned as she approached. She put her arm around him and felt him sag against her.  
"Yeah, sorry for making you a lab-rat like that, but it's the fastest mode of transportation I know. It's just that the sign-matrix still needs a little refining. And we should have taken a break before going through the Gate, that too; the translation nearly always causes nausea. Sorry about that."

"Fine, I forgive you. But when we start our return journey, let's take the normal way back."

* * *

Harry had gone to bed after the Welcoming Feast jittery and with a stomach full of rabid butterflies. Gaara had said that Temari would be coming to the Ministry of Magic to be properly cross about the Dementors for him, but that she should be able to come to Hogwarts to get to know him. And that she and her boyfriend from the other Village would be getting to the Ministry within 24 hours because they'd be travelling by a new transport method that still needed testing.

He had remembered how proud his brothers had been when he tried to analyse someone, so he had done it to Professor Lupin, the new DADA teacher as it turned out. The man was very tired, and moved stiffly like the old man at No. 10 Privet Drive did, who had rheumatism. And the scars over his face looked like he had tried to cuddle Hermione's new devil-cat Crookshanks. He had caught sight of some more scars down his arms, like teeth marks. Maybe Mr Lupin was a monster hunter, like Lockhart had been, but for real this time. They might actually get proper lessons this year!  
But whenever Mr - no, Professor Lupin now - looked at Harry, he looked sort of sad and a bit...a bit...not nostalgic, but...wistful, that was it!

Well, maybe the mystery this year would simply be figuring out why Professor Lupin was so sad and tired all the time, instead of fighting giant spiders and giant snakes and Voldemort. After all, he wouldn't have that much time what with promising to show the First Years around and talking to Blaise and Neville and getting to know his new family...

And Harry fell asleep to images of Professor Lupin shambling along, howling like a wolf for some reason, chasing the basilisk's tail as Harry ate ice-cream with Gaara, before a gaggle of First Years followed him like ducklings up a vertical wall of Hogwarts onto the ceiling of Great Hall, a stilt-legged and snaggle-toothed Crookshanks bringing up the rear, and Hermione told them all that they weren't allowed to touch the floating candles because it would ruin Blaise and Hedwig's poker game and Neville promptly touched one and spilt wax all over the front of his robes before turning into Trevor and jumping onto Ron's head, refusing to get off.

It was the happiest dream he'd had in a very long time.

* * *

"Dumbledore! Merlin, Morgana and Maeve, for all our sakes, GET UP DUMBLEDORE!" Amelia Bones roared through the Floo. A House Elf popped in, squeaked in terror at the simultaneously scared and thunderous expression on her face and made to pop away, only to be pinned in place by the Director's hunted glare.  
"It's a possible matter of life and death that I speak to Dumbledore, _now_." She hissed. "Wake him now or I will come through and drag him out from under the covers _myself_!"

But before the Elf could gather it's wits to follow her orders, Dumbledore shuffled into the room, the lights flickering into life in response to his presence.  
"Amelia? It's 6 o'clock in the morning! My dear, what in Merlin's name-"

"We'll be _joining_ Merlin very soon if we're not careful!" Seeing the confusion on his face, she took a deep breath and explained tersely. "Did you read the last issue of the Prophet?"

"I wouldn't say I read the Prophet, though I do quite enjoy some of their Cooking Tips for Adventurous Witches-"

"Right. There was an article. About Harry Potter with two foreign men. For whatever reason, they like him. And they're powerful. And dangerous. And they were furious to hear about the Dementors being posted to Hogwarts. Not only that, but I hear basilisks, acromantula and _sarding_ Voldemort have been at Hogwarts!"

"I-"

"Because they have _a military to run,_ they are sending their sister and her fiancée in their stead. A foreign Lord and Lady with immense powers, devoted to Harry Potter's continued well-being and very, very cross, are going to arrive at the Ministry's doorstep in less than 12 hours. I have spent the last six hours straightening out my Department, and I'm giving you time to get your side of events in order only because of the amount of respect I have for your work in the past. Now I need to go round the other Departments and get them to hustle. It might be a plan to bring Harry Potter with you when you come and-" she eyed him up and down with a slight curl of distaste about her lips. "I suggest you wear _muted_ and _practical_ colours."

The Floo flashed green and she was gone, leaving Albus Dumbledore standing aghast in his office. What on earth was happening?

And he wasn't even sure he _owned_ any sombre colours.

* * *

Unknowing of the chaos running rampant through the Ministry of Magic, Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Over at the Slytherin table, Draco was performing a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit, to an accompanying cacophony of laughter. Seeing that Blaise and some of the Slytherins from the older years weren't laughing and were looking over at Draco's gaggle of sycophants in mild contempt, Harry decided it was best to ignore them and sit down. Even Pansy Parkinson's taunt he blocked out in favour of buttering a slice of toast.

George Weasley in the seat next to him, handed over the Third-Year course schedules. "Don't listen to them Harry," he said. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the Dementors were down at our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?"

"Nearly wet himself," said Fred, with a contemptuous glance at Malfoy.

"I wasn't too happy myself," said George. "They're horrible things, those Dementors..."

"Sort of freeze your insides, don't they?" said Fred.

"You didn't pass out, though, did you?" said Harry in a low voice.

"Forget it, Harry," said George bracingly. "Dad had to go out to Azkaban one time, remember, Fred? And he said it was the worst place he'd ever been, he came back all weak and shaking...They suck the happiness out of a place, Dementors. Most of the prisoners go mad in there."

"Great. So Sirius Black might be mad, but at least he'll be physically weak."

Hermione, examining her new schedule, broke the tone with her happy exclamation of "Ooh, good, we're starting our elective subjects today."

"Hermione," said Ron, frowning as he looked over her shoulder, "they've messed up your timetable. Look - they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough time."

"I'll manage. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

"But look," said Ron, laughing, "see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And -" Ron leaned closer to the timetable, disbelieving, "look - underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o'clock. I mean, I know you're good, Hermione, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"

"Don't be silly," said Hermione shortly. "Of course I won't be in three classes at once."

"Hermione, why on earth are you taking Muggle Studies?" Harry asked disbelievingly. "You're a Muggleborn, and you were Muggle-raised. Talk about hauling coal to Newcastle." She flushed, biting her lip.

"I just think it will be very educational to see how the Wizarding World views Muggles. And it will be a useful qualification once I've graduated," she replied, folding up the piece of paper and stuffing it in her satchel.

* * *

"My turn..." Ron peered into Harry's teacup, his forehead wrinkled with effort. "There's a blob a bit like a sun as well," he said. "But that's not really the future, is it? I mean, you're already happy about your new family and all."

He turned the teacup the other way up.

"But this way it looks more like an skull...what's that?" He scanned his copy of Unfogging the Future. "'Danger in your path.' Uh oh, that must be that Sirius Black guy. This bit here looks like three curvy sticks, not a clue what it looks like. And there's a thing here," he turned the cup again, "that looks like an animal...yeah, if that was its head...it looks like a hippo...no, a sheep..."

Professor Trelawney whirled around as Harry let out a snort of laughter.

"Let me see that, my dear," she said reprovingly to Ron, sweeping over and snatching Harry's cup from him. Everyone went quiet to Trelawney was staring into the teacup, rotating it counter-clockwise.

"The bow and arrow, yes...my dear, you shall be harmed by people talking about your personal affairs. I should watch who you tell your secrets to." The gleams in Parvati and Lavender's eyes in anticipation of juicy gossip did not comfort Harry in the slightest.

"But everyone knows that," said Hermione in a loud whisper. Professor Trelawney stared at her.

"Well, they do," said Hermione. "The Prophet keeps talking about Harry being the Boy-Who-Lived and he's hated it from day one."

Harry and Ron stared at her with a mixture of amazement and admiration. They had never heard Hermione speak to a teacher like that before. Professor Trelawney chose not to reply. She lowered her huge eyes to Harry's cup again and continued to turn it.

"The sun...happiness. Maybe the bow and arrow will not be as devastating as it seems."

Ron and Harry exchanged a knowing grin.

Everyone was staring, transfixed, at Professor Trelawney, who gave the cup a final turn, gasped, and then screamed.

There was another tinkle of breaking china; Neville had smashed his second cup. Professor Trelawney sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes closed.

"My dear boy - my poor dear boy - no - it is kinder not to say - no - don't ask me..."

"What is it, Professor?" said Dean Thomas at once. Everyone had got to their feet, and slowly they crowded around Harry and Ron's table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney's chair to get a good look at Harry's cup.

"My dear," Professor Trelawney's huge eyes opened dramatically, "you have the Grim.""The what?" said Harry.

He could tell that he wasn't the only one who didn't understand; Dean Thomas shrugged at him and Lavender Brown looked puzzled, but nearly everybody else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror.

"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that Harry hadn't understood. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen - the worst omen - of death!"

Harry's stomach lurched, but quickly settled as he thought of something. Gaara and Kankuro had said that they would kill Sirius Black if it meant protecting Harry, and Professor Trelawney hadn't specified that Harry himself was going to die just because the Grim was in _his_ cup. And maybe the Grim just meant a person closely associated with death, like his brothers being shinobi.  
"Um, Professor?" He decided to ask for clarification. "Does it specifically mean that I, me, am going to die, or that someone else I know is going to die, or that someone I know is closely associated with death?"

There was a pregnant pause as everyone looked at Harry, Hermione in particular with approval.

Professor Trelawney surveyed Harry with mounting dislike.

"You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."

"Well, if I'm definitely no good at this, I'll drop Divination then," Harry said without missing a beat. "I made a decision this year that I was going to stand up for myself, so I'm not going to sit in a choking, overstuffed, chintzy parlour all year, doing something I'm not good at and don't particularly like. And this way, Professor Trelawney ma'am, you can spend your valuable time on students who do have 'receptivity to the resonances of the future'.

There was another loud pause, this time as everyone looked at Harry aghast and in mounting awe.

"I think we will leave the lesson here for today," said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest voice. "Yes...please pack away your things..."

"How do you even _do_ that?" Neville asked, thunderstruck as he walked faster to keep pace with the three down the corridor. "How do you just... _do_ it? Don't you worry about what, well, what the consequences are?"

"I kind of used to," Harry breathed. "But then I realised that as long as I have my friends, my family, people who care about me, then I can get through whatever consequences there are. And why should I have to put myself down so other people can feel better or walk all over me?  
What did you get in your cup Neville?"

"Huh? O...oh, Sean thought it was a clock but Professor Trelawney said it was a bird in a cage. It means that something's holding me back from fulfilling my wish. Guess I'll be stuck there for a while, given how I'm barely above a Squib and all."

"That's rubbish!" Hermione blurted out. "Squibs and Hedge-Wizards and -Witches don't get Hogwarts letters, it says so in _Hogwarts: A History_! There's just got to be something nobody's thought that's stopping you from casting spells properly?"

"Maybe it got broken on the inside or something?" Ron suggested. "That's what happened with mine last year, not to mention it was a hand-me-down. Your wand core could be done in but you wouldn't know 'cause nobody can see it?"

"You should go to Ollivander's and get him to check it Nev," Harry urged. "That way you can be sure before you start blaming yourself."

* * *

Harry chose a seat right at the back of the Transfiguration room, feeling as though he were sitting in a very bright spotlight; the rest of the class kept shooting furtive glances at him. To block them out, he focused with all his willpower on what Professor McGonagall was telling them about Animagi (wizards who could transform at will into animals), and stared intently when she transformed herself in front of their eyes into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes.

"Really, what has got into you all today?" said Professor McGonagall, turning back into herself with a faint pop, and staring around at them all. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class."

Hermione raised her hand.

"Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and -"

"Ah, of course," said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

Everyone stared at her.

Hermione cleared her throat deliberately. " _Actually_ , Professor, Harry got a death omen. But when he questioned it, Professor Trelawney tried to insult him by telling him he wasn't cut out for Divination, so Harry said he quit."

"I see," said Professor McGonagall, fixing Harry with her beady eyes. Her expression almost looked like vindictive pride. "Ten points to Gryffindor for asking searching questions and standing up for yourself, Mr Potter. Please come to my office after lessons and we can discuss a replacement course for you to take."

* * *

Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground; this was the bit Harry had been dreading; he leaned back as the smooth neck lowered, feeling he was going to slip off over the beak, then felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground. He just managed to hold on and push himself straight again.

"Good work, Harry!" roared Hagrid as everyone except Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle cheered. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his inky black one, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees. Ron and Hermione practiced on the chestnut, while Harry watched.

Pansy and a couple of the other Slytherins in the class had some success with the pinkish roan and bronze ones, but Harry perked up and took interest when Blaise picked his way over to the black one that Neville was having trouble with and was starting to look a little annoyed at the boy's constant attempts.

"Longbottom, you need to relax," he insisted. "Your shoulders are too high and she's reading that as aggression but constantly skipping away like that is sending mixed signals."

"Easy for you to say!" Neville wailed in frustration. "I just don't want to end up getting mauled."

By this point, all other activity had ceased and Blaise and Neville were the ones being stared at. Blaise glanced around quickly and snorted in irritation. "Oh for the love of the Choirs, Longbottom, stand away and let me show you how it's done."

Neville scampered further away gratefully and Blaise took a deep breath. He let his arms hang loose by his sides, shoulders relaxed and his head slightly tilted downward. The Hippogriff mare perked her head up as he approached cautiously, before slowly bringing up his gaze and looking her right in the eye. Everyone held their breath this time.

After only a few seconds, she sank to one knee in the same way that Buckbeak had done earlier. As Blaise ran his hooked fingers through the large, thick ear tufts(bigger than any of the others'), Hagrid's voice boomed over the enclosure.  
"Ten points t' Slytherin fer followin' instructions righ' and helpin' a classmate! Looks like Inktail's taken a likin' to yeh, Zabini."

A mere few minutes later, the good mood would be shattered as a bleeding Malfoy was carried back into the castle.

* * *

 **'Dear Gaara,**

 **I've kind of got a confession to make, technically two. You see, last year we got to chose our elective courses. I really wanted to do Care of Magical Creatures, but I only chose Divination because you don't really have to do anything and I thought I could just coast along.  
But obviously things have changed since then, I've changed, and when I went to my first Divination lesson today, I found that I just couldn't stand it. So I told Professor Trelawney that I quit, but Professor McGonagall said I could talk to her about a replacement course. I'm pretty sure she has an issue with Divination and that's why she's being so helpful. I'm just about to go see her now-'**

"Potter, put that away."

Harry flailed for a moment at the voice of Professor Snape and definitely did not squeak at seeing the man in the Gryffindor Common Room, right in front of him. Absolutely not.

"Potter, rejoice, for you are to be excused from doing homework this evening," Snape grimaced, as if sounding...actually quite civil(if still a little curt) was paining him somehow. "Your presence is required at the Ministry of Magic along with myself and the Headmaster. Apparently, some foreign officials are arriving and your presence may smooth negotiations, so you have five minutes and a half to change into fresh clothes and wash those ink-stains off your fingers. And for Merlin's sake, see if you can do something about that electrified Pygmy Puff you call hair. _Now!_ "

 _There_ was the acerbic, cutting tone that had been missing.

As Harry dashed for his Dormitory room, he felt mounting excitement tighten his chest. This was it, wasn't it? Temari and her boyfriend were coming! They were almost here!

Snape resisted the childish urge to tap his foot as he waited next to the roaring fireplace, his black teaching robes sticking out in the red and gold common room like spilt ink on a tapestry. Lupin had told him everything he knew.

Oh, he still saw James Potter's face every time he laid eyes on the boy, that would never change. And the news of the scene in the Divination classroom had reached him, of course, and made him seethe at the arrogance. But he had to agree that some things just did not add up. Hadn't added up for a while.  
He had always attributed the boy's shorter, thinner stature to a simple genetic quirk. Lily's mother had not been a particularly tall woman and it could have skipped a generation. But in comparison to his fellows, Potter was _noticeably_ shorter, not to mention a little thin around the face with rather dull hair. Lupin had mentioned the youngest Weasley brat being frightened about Potter's Muggles and whatever their faults, none of the Weasleys had been inclined to be scared in the face of danger. They were the type to roar and fuss and charge right in with a narrow-minded goal. Not whisper and exchange cautious glances.  
Also, despite all of the...incidents...that had occurred in his Potions classes(he had always objected to pairing Gryffindor and Slytherin together, _why_ did Albus insist on it, the plan to 'foster co-operation' _obviously_ hadn't worked for years) they had never been instigated by Potter, at least out of any malice or intentional troublemaking. That was something those odious Marauders would have done.  
Not to mention, Zabini had somehow become friends, or at least allies, with Potter. That was all Lily. The Zabini were _definitely_ not Light, Blaise Zabini included, and James Potter wouldn't have touched any one of them with a ten-foot pole.

So, yes. Maybe Harry Potter wasn't the carbon copy of James Potter he had made him out to be. That didn't mean he was going to start fawning over the brat or, Merlin forbid, _'care for him'_ as Albus seemingly thought would happen. The old man needed to stop entertaining such sickeningly saccharine fantasies of a perfect world.  
No, he would continue to watch the boy, and was willing to alter his opinion, and he could do civil; that was as far as he was going to go.

* * *

"Headmaster!"

Dumbledore stifled a groan and pasted a genial smile on his face as he turned towards the woman heading towards him through the bustling atrium. "Mrs Zabini, you're looking well this evening. Might I enquire as to why you are here?"

She waved away his compliment with a gold-bangled hand, the speckled feathers pinned behind her ear fluttering gently. "Oh, my son wrote to me to say that the Ministry was expecting some important visitors, something to do with all the Dementors our illustrious government have placed around our children. No offense, Madam Bones."

"None taken," the steely-faced Director replied, coming up to them. "Dumbledore, your robes don't blind everyone in the room for once, so thank you for that." Indeed, the mustard yellow robes with glittery brown embroidery on the sleeves and hem was a large improvement over the some of the outfits she had seen him in. "I hope for your sake that you martialled your defence."

There was a whoosh of the Floo over in the corner, immediately followed by a thump and a sharp yelp of surprise. Through the crowd, Severus Snape materialised, towing Harry Potter by the sleeve of his soot-stained robe. A wand-wave and a muttered cleaning charm took care of that.  
Unfortunately, Angelique Zabini took that as unspoken permission to glomp the poor boy.

"Oh! Young Mr Potter, my Blaise has told me so much about you, I'm so glad he's made friend! You remind me so much of one of my cousins from Cyprus, you have similar hair and glasses. You must come over for dinner during the holidays, at least once! Now, I must go have a little chat with someone from Admin, please excuse me." She swept off in a streak of champagne-gold silk and sugary, spicy perfume.

"She's nothing like I thought Blaise's mum would be," Harry mumbled faintly.

"Don't worry, Mr Potter," Amelia Bones said soothingly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "She's always...enthusiastic about the little details. Ever since we met during school; exchange program to Beauxbatons. Nice to see you Mr Potter, my niece Susan is a Hufflepuff in your year. I'm Madam Amelia Bones, Director, or Head, of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." She held out her hand for him to shake, guessing that he wouldn't want to kiss it as would be proper. He shook it shyly, a little surprised at her calluses and strength of her grip.

Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly to catch their attention. "If I may cut in, I-" He himself was cut off by a paper aeroplane memo landing in Amelia's hands, her eyes widening as she read it.  
"Excuse me, I must go." She hurried off as well, leaving Harry and Snape alone with Dumbledore.

Dumbledore opened his mouth again to speak, but was interrupted for a second time, by a flood of Aurors in their little-used ceremonial regalia, pouring through the crowd and hustling everyone into lines, hushing them into quiet. Harry, Snape and Dumbledore were herded to the front to stand by a small, pudgy man in a bowler hat with a large gold chain around his shoulders. The green robes were a little too bright to look official, so he resembled a Brussel sprout more than anything. That gold chain, like a mayor, must mean that's the Minister of Magic, Harry reasoned.

A few steps behind the Brussel sprout stood a rather shiny praying mantis-looking woman scribbling franticly on a notepad with a poisonous green quill clasped in talon-like nails; a man with a camera hovered at her shoulder. An Auror leaned over and hissed something at the mantis-woman and the green quill was hurriedly swapped for a normal white one.  
The pair of them, reporters most likely, kept sending derisive glares at a man also holding a quill, who had rather wispy white hair and over some white-blue robes wore a lavender scarf that looked to be rather badly hand-knitted. Rival newspapers, then? Harry didn't know there was another newspaper other than the Prophet. He'd have to find a copy and see if it was any good.

The quiet murmuring that filled the atrium was abruptly silenced by a loud knocking on the towering double doors that led from the Ministry onto a plaza just off Diagon Alley. The giant slabs of ornately carved wood opened silently, coming to rest at the sides with a muffled thump.

"Dear Merlin," someone gasped, as the figures framed in the rectangle of light strode forward into full view.

Harry thought his heart would burst with excitement.

* * *

 **'Hauling coal to Newcastle' is a British phrase akin to 'selling water to fish'; pointless and unnecessary. Since Newcastle hosted one of the largest coal-mining industries in the country, to try and import coal to there from somewhere else would be pointless and a waste of time and resources.**

* * *

 ** _*Upbeat jingle plays*_**

 **Ask Kankuro!**

 _' What heals faster, Essence of Dittany or Mystical Palm Jutsu?'_

'The short answer is that they both heal at about the same speed, but Mystical Palm can be manually regulated for different severities of, and types of, wounds. Dittany is excellent for cuts and bruises and such, but if you've got a more complex injury then you're going to need something else, or add something to it.

Also, another interesting titbit for you, both will heal down to the DNA. As in, they don't just force the cells to replicate faster, they additionally fix all the wear it puts on the chromosomal structure. This means that your lifespan doesn't get shortened. The difference is that Dittany does that automatically, but Mystical Palm requires stringent chakra control. Anyone who's not a rigorously trained med-nin plays it safe if they're healing themselves, by not quite finishing the job and just accepting the scar tissue. Because if you over-perform Mystical Palm, it's pretty easy to end up with a network of benign tumour tissue. It's why med-nin in training practice on fish to start, rather than tiny wounds on humans.

To conclude, both are equally fast and work in similar ways, but Mystical Palm requires lots more training and has the capacity to go wrong.'

* * *

 **Read, enjoy, and review if you liked it!**

 **Or just to complain about evil cliff-hangers.**

 **Either one is fine.**

 **Also, more questions for Kankuro please!**


	22. The Arrival

**Yes, yes, evil cliff-hanger is evil. This chapter is a little shorter than some, but at least it's a quick update. Also, headcanon ahoy! Some of you may recognize it from my Plot Bunnies collection. Also, characterization for Hourglass characters snuck up on me.**

 **Also, some wonderful person has made a TV Tropes page for this story.**

* * *

As soon as Amelia Bones had read the aeroplane memo, she had hurriedly gathered two of her best; Senior Aurors Woodruffe and Squires. They took the back way out into Founder's Plaza, and met up with two more of her Aurors who had been keeping an eye out for their guests. Their guests themselves were also there.

Amelia took in their appearance and swallowed her fear.

"Lady Temari, Lord Nara. It is an honour to have you here. I am Director Bones of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and these are some of my Aurors. I hope your journey was pleasant?"  
Lord Nara shot a glance at his fiancée. At least, Amelia got the impression he did; she couldn't see anything of his face under the...extremely intimidating headpiece and it's enchantment.

"We came with all haste, so we didn't have much time to take in the sights." His voice might have had a slight bass reverberation to it, but it still sounded rather young; probably no more than eighteen.

"We hope to stay and see some, as soon as our business here is concluded," Lady Temari chipped in. "Harry has told me about Hogwarts and I am most excited to see that in particular."

"Of course, my Lady," Amelia bowed. "If you would please follow me, we have assembled everyone of importance for your convenience."

"Oh good," Lord Nara sighed. "Hunting down all these people ourselves would have been such a drag."

* * *

" _Dear Merlin,_ " someone gasped from within the crowd, and Harry could see why as the procession made it's way into the atrium.  
They were beautifully formidable and imposingly majestic all rolled into one.

Temari had her hair up in four bunches, as he had seen in the photograph, but now from each a long hair pin stuck out, each of them trailing a chain of tiny yellowish crystals. A high collar hugged her neck and long, wide sleeves had a slit up their entire length; revealing that she wore ridged, leathery gauntlets. Engraved and inlaid with gold, a thick belt of the same textured leather rested snugly on her waist, a scroll tucked into one of the loops that was on it. The tan-coloured robe had two thigh-high slits at the front, allowing her to stride and showing off the cloud-grey slacks she wore and the black pouch strapped to her left leg.  
Someone being poetically simpering would describe her skin as 'sun-kissed', but that was all wrong. This woman had not been coddled tenderly and gently flourished by the light. Her skin was worn smooth and dry, stained by sun and wind; she had been raised, no, had raised herself from the ground like a monument of ancient kings, to stand against the windstorms that stripped flesh from the bones of lesser men and bend them to her whim.

As Temari drew awestruck breaths from the assembly, Shikamaru forced gasps of shock from their lungs.

The skull of a great stag crowned his head, antlers black and curved inward like a crescent moon. Those who looked closer could see that the sets of antlers numbered two, not one; the brow tines sprouted from separated coronets to the main pair. Underneath, his face was shadowed.  
Not shadowed as in his features were cast in shade, as in liquid darkness slipped and slid inside the skull's interior as if it filled the whole space. His eyes were two luminous circles shining out of the eye-sockets, impossible to tell his expression or where he was looking. The juniper-green tunic and slacks almost blended into the matte black fabric of a sweeping robe that brushed the floor behind him. On the back of it were applique leaves, vines and deer, in soft brown doeskin, almost seeming to move as the light flickered over them.

The breaths that everyone had lost were quickly sucked back in and held in suspenseful watchfulness as the two of them stopped in front of the Minister in the Brussel sprout robes. Amelia Bones hurriedly made introductions.

"Minister, may I introduce the Lady Temari of Soo-na-ga-koo-ray no Sa-tow, Commander of the Wind Corps, The Tempest Queen," she sounded out carefully. "And Lord Shi-ka-ma-roo Nara, Chief Strategist of Ko-no-ha-ga-koo-ray, The Shroud Tailor. My Lord and Lady, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge."

"Delighted, yes, yes, a ple-pleasure to have you," the man sweated, sticking out his hand to Lord Nara. Who barely spared it a glance.

'Dammit,' thought Harry. 'They don't know about shinobi not liking hand-to-hand contact. If I can just...''

With a quick wriggle, learned through many 'Harry Hunts', Harry slipped neatly from Snape's (slightly slack from shock and lack of concentration)grip, diving into the crowd and squirming through to the front cluster of Very Important People. Given the spectacle enfolding in front of them, the people around either didn't realise he was there, or noticed far to late to formulate a response.

"Psst! Ma'am Bones!" The lady herself jerked her head around in surprise to see Harry Potter tugging on her sleeve. Before she could think of what was best; to introduce the boy to distract the formidable two or shoo him away as discretely as possible, he stood on his very tiptoes and whispered in her ear(a bit loudly, she wasn't hard of hearing) "culture thing, they don't touch hands with strangers. Try bowing a little bit".

"Harry?"

It seemed that interruptions were to be the main theme of the evening.

Temari turned aside from a blustering Minister Fudge, to better study him, scanning him up and down.  
"Yes, that's me," Harry affirmed, a shy grin spreading over his face. "Hi."

"Don't 'hi' me, come here and let me give you a hug." She opened her arms and Harry needed no further invitation.

Quills scribbled furiously and cameras flashed, as the Boy-Who-Lived was hugged by the very Lady who had just spurned the Minister. Then, the grim and shadowy Lord Nara loomed over the happy pair like the Erlking himself, only for the Lady to look up at him with a fond smile. "Shikamaru, this is Harry. Harry, my fiancé Shikamaru Nara. Ignore the spooky getup."

"No, I get it; impressions, right?" Harry sighed shyly. "Don't the antlers get caught on everything though? And isn't your line of sight really narrow in that?"

"Nice to meet you, Harry. Temari has spoken about you a lot." Harry got the impression of a wry smirk. "The weight and spatial difference does take a little adjustment, and my extrasensory perception increases to compensate for sight."

"My Lord and Lady, if I might interrupt," Dumbledore interrupted, having finally collected himself it seemed. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. I apologise on behalf of my student, I'm sure his emotions simply got the better of him for him to intrude like this."

"Your apology is not necessary, Headmaster Dumbledore," Temari said, drawing herself up to her full height. "Since there was no offense at all; Harry is very precious to me. And as we seem to have got off to a rather stale start, maybe I should restart the introductions.  
I am Temari the Tempest Queen, Commander of the Wind Corps, firstborn and daughter of Rasa of the Gilded Dunes the Fourth Kazekage, Elder sister of the Fifth Kazekage and Puppet Master Kankuro.  
My fiancé, Shikamaru Nara the Shroud Tailor, Heir Apparent of the Nara Clan, Chief Strategist of Konohagakure.

I was sent here as a representative, as a favour to my adorable younger brother," Amelia Bones mouthed the word 'adorable' to herself, aghast, "in hopes that a few issues will be cleared up as soon as possible. If we could maybe sit down, Minister, but I don't mind standing if that is your custom."

The man flustered and spluttered. "No, of course, I mean-mean, yes! Let us sit. My office-"

"I don't think so." Lord Nara spoke aloud for all to hear for the first time. "Bones-buchō has spent so much time and effort arranging all of these people here for us, it would be such a waste of her hard work to dismiss everyone. And it would be such a drag to hunt down all the ones we need. so we shall all. Sit. Here, and discuss these matters so that the truth may not be distorted by word-of-mouth."

Harry was awe-struck. His eyes wide as he listened, and virtually _felt_ the mood shift and the way these two monoliths were guiding it. Gaara and Kankuro were his brothers and family and important to him, but Temari and Shikamaru were _awesome._ They were playing everyone like a violin; scraping the right strings and letting the note fly on the course they had set it. And judging from the strangely curious look in her eyes, Mrs Blaise's Mum could feel it too.  
The praying-mantis woman and the man with the straggly purple scarf were furiously taking notes, page after page as some people in the crowd saw where the evening was going and resignedly started Conjuring or Transfiguring chairs for themselves. Somewhere in the middle, he thought he even caught a glimpse of Draco's dad and a smile twitched across his lips at the thought of the horrible, stuck-up man being forced to wait his turn.

A hand on his shoulder broke him out of his observations and he looked up at his sister(his _sister_ was _amazing!_ ).  
"Harry, realistically, we're going to be here a while, and I'm sure you have friends and homework. On the other hand, this does concern you and you deserve to have a say. So you can choose whether to go or stay." Harry thought about it.

His train of thought was cut off, along with everybody else's attention, as a gaggle of people arrived through one of the Floos, carrying tripods and microphones. The anticipation on their faces faltered as they registered the mass of Ministry workers sitting morosely on a variety of chairs. A lull of silence fell.  
"U-um," the leader gulped. "Wizarding Wireless Network? We're here for a live...report..."

Temari and Shikamaru exchanged a positively predatory glance.  
"Tell us, Bones-buchō," Temari purred. "How many Magicals listen to the Wizarding Wireless Network? Don't you think all those at home, the mothers and fathers, deserve to know what their Government is doing in _detail_?"

Several Witches and Wizards in attendance heard death knells in those two questions.

* * *

"Turn on the wireless!" Susan Bones yelled, running into the Hufflepuff Common Room. One of the prefects stepped into her path and grabbed her gently as she cannoned into him.  
"What's the hurry?" Gabriel Truman asked gently. "What's wrong?"

"Ministry," she gasped out. "Emergency meeting...about Hogwarts and the Dementors...there's a live report and you have to turn it on!"

"Well, duh, of course there's going to be arguments over sending Dementors," a Fifth Year with a Runes book open on her lap said dismissively. "Anyone with common sense-"

"There might be BLOOD!" Susan half-gasped, half-screamed, effectively silencing all comments. "Foreign Lords got involved somehow and they're not happy and Auntie says they could be just as powerful as Dumbledore and willing to prove it!"

"Turn it on, get everyone in here," Gabriel ordered. "I'd better go round the other houses and tell them as well."

* * *

"Boop...boop...boop...boop...boo-"

"Stop that!" Mokichi said harshly, Kokan's finger pausing mid-air just above an unconscious Baki's nose. "Keep doing that and I'll break that finger, see if I don't."

The Puppeteer duly withdrew his hand. "Sheesh, a bit over the top? But seriously, how're you doing?"

Mokichi kicked the door closed behind him and set down the tray. "Awful. All I can do is sit here. I have to keep telling myself that I'm not useless."

"There's nothing stopping you from doing a bit of bonding right now," Kokan replied candidly, nodding his head at Baki's prone form. But Mokichi shook his head.  
"Those seals," he pointed at the paper tags glowing gently on either side of the pillow, "are what's helping his brain heal. If I pull on his chakra, they'll be disrupted."

"Sucky," Kokan commiserated. "Did you see the new nin-owl Kazekage-sama brought back from the Other Side?"

"No, but Yoruhi-san did and she told me while we were in Greenhouse 3. Thankfully too much offense wasn't taken during the standard medical, otherwise it could've got messy; double the talons. Are you allowed to tell me anything about the prisoner Kankuro-sama brought home?"

"Not a prisoner," came the meaningful statement as he reached for the bowl and spoon on the tray. "Asylum-seeker. Apart from that, info's dryer than the Jackal Wadi at noon. Rumour has it that the man's an Inugami of all things, but I don't know where the seed of truth is in that. Apparently, initial supervision is being restricted to need-to-know only, but that might change."

"Uh-huh. Speaking of supervision, where exactly is your apprentice?"

"..."

"Kokan Nishi, you better have a good answer."

"Er...haha...you see...um...funny story...she's absolutely terrified of you, so she's sitting on the roof working on her puppet designs."

Mokichi blinked owlishly behind his glasses in utter bemusement. "What. Are we even talking about the same girl here? Last I checked, Misora was swearing like a Yuugakure laundry worker and picking fights with the nin-animals from Apartment Block 4. And I'm...me. _What did you do?!_ "

Kokan leaned away warily, still holding the bowl of pudding close to his chest. "Whoa, not me, not me I swear it on my puppet; you know I'm no slanderer! I don't even know why she's like this. I should be asking what _you_ did."

"I only know her as your student, we've barely even spoken a full sentence to each other. And why don't you know why? Haven't you asked?"

Kokan's expression froze a little. "I...uh...there's a bit of...I wouldn't call it a _problem_ exactly. But...argh, words."

"Take your time, eat your pudding. There's no hurry."

He stirred the bowl aimlessly for a minute or two, before he took a breath. "You know I'm a bit screwed up when it comes to relationships and it took me a while to work out where I stood with each sort. But Misora's my student, and that's new for me. I don't want to mess it up, but I don't know where the boundaries are. So...I've been keeping things distant. We don't talk about anything except training. I'm pretty sure she thinks I don't like her."

"Have you tried explaining or even dropping hints about what happened to you?"

Kokan's glare was biting and haunted. "No. I hate it when people look at me like _that_."

"Not all people."

"Well, no, Baki was always blunt like that. And you know how it feels, in a way. But Misora isn't like that, she's still got the same mind-set as most others. She might be a Lantern Child, but those places are unionised and protected; my situation was another nest of scorpions entirely."

"Yes, it was. And it was disgusting and dehumanising and it's left it's mark on you, I get it," Mokichi huffed. "And you're right, I have no idea how Misora might take it and it is up to your discretion. But I would try not being quite so stand-offish; you might be master and apprentice, but that doesn't have to be all there is to it. You might even become friends."

Kokan licked the spoon, and dropped it into the empty bowl. "Fine. Why do you have to be so sensible, Mokichi?" He groaned exaggeratedly. The friendly light in Mokichi's eyes dimmed a little.  
"Yeah, well, Baki isn't here right now to be sensible for us...what are you doing?"

"Giving you a completely platonic, non-sexual hug because you are my friend and you are upset," Kokan mumbled into Mokichi's chest.

"Kokan, no."

"FEEL THE FRIENDSHIP."

"Dear kami, why are we friends again?"

* * *

 _ ***Upbeat jingle plays***_

 **Ask Kankuro!**

 _Kankuro walks into the studio and see Black Ant sitting on his chair. Puzzled, he opens up Black Ant's stomach and is immediately buried under pieces of paper._

'OH KAMI I'M POPULAR!"

 _What movie/fictional series does Gaara like best?_

'My Neighbour Totoro and Silence of the Lambs. Also Alien and Aliens. For books, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.'

 _What would happen if you used the Killing Curse on Hidan or an Edo Tensei person?_

'Probably just undo the Edo Tensei, since general consensus is that the spell rips the soul from the body. Hopefully we never have to find out. Hidan was that crazy Jashinist right? I have absolutely no clue how Jashinist Immortality works, so I have no clue.'

 _Are the Elemental Nations in the same pocket universe as Hogwarts?_

'No, The Wizarding World is very much still part of the Non-Magic World. I don't know what they do to some locations to make them impossible to find by Non-Magicals, but there you go.'

 _How would a shinobi deal with Hippogriff?_

'Well, it's still got relatively familiar biology; horse and bird. The legs might get in the way and you'd need a longer blade, but it would be quite easy to find the major organs and blood vessels...if you're trying to kill a Hippogriff that is. If not, just give the same respect you would to a person.'

* * *

 **Read, enjoy, leave a review.**


	23. The Diplomats

**Feelings-Time circles of Social Death and Sirius is Not Looking Forward To therapy.**

 **I'm sorry about the wait, but the muse just wasn't cooperating, so the pacing in this chapter may feel a bit stilted. Also, I got swept up in the tense family fiasco that was my grandfather's funeral.**

 **Well, I _say_ my muse wasn't cooperating, but in reality, I took a few days holiday to Cornwall, and was suddenly bombarded with Worldbuilding instead of Story. Slang, microbiomes, slang, folklore, customs, etcetera. I have spent the last few weeks with travel and ecology textbooks flung open all over my room. **

**I have also been thanking Kishimoto that he only gave us a quarter of a definitive world map and left the rest open to interpretation because I have been drawing maps... I'll link them on my profile when I get the chance...and figure out how...**

* * *

Somebody had thought of the idea to call House Elves to them to fetch refreshments for the crowd of people sitting around in the Ministry Atrium and the silence had become a dull murmur of apprehension and curiosity as they listened in to the verbal political slaughter over on one side of the hall. People clustered together in groups as they were wont to do, a few sneaking back and forth between to pass on this piece of information and that bit of gossip.

It was worse over by the broadcasting booth. As in, several people of note sat on their chairs in a horribly awkward parody of a therapy circle, being forced to admit that they had screwed up, on national radio. It was going well. Or horribly, depending on the point of view. Needless to say, Harry was enjoying his (literal)ringside seat immensely with all the smug satisfaction of the thirteen-year-old he was.

Because of the short notice, the news team had simply set up the microphones and let the conversation play out, so none of them even had the stability of scripts or second-hand clarifications to ease the confessions. Hence why the Ministry officials were looking much more wilted than usual.

"B-but I-I can't!" Minister Fudge protested weakly. "I can't call off the Dementors. Once a deal has-has been struck, they won't go b-back on it. They're, they're-they're _tenacious_."

" _Wonderful_ ," Shikamaru drawled acerbically. "Extermination it is then. Can we assume that physical force works, or will we have to resort to incineration or stronger?"  
"Just cut the middle man and skip straight to incineration, I say," Temari rolled her eyes. "standard decontamination, you don't know what vermin carry on them."  
"True, true; these are the first soul-eating emotophages anyone's encountered in written history. Better safe than sorry."

"Excuse me," Xenophilius Lovegood interrupted brightly, from where he was sitting just outside the circle on a tree stump he had transfigured. "As a magizoologist, I happen to know some passive protective measures against Dementors. I would tell you about some of the more active rituals, but those-"

"Are illegal and Dark," sniffed Rita Skeeter. "Careful what you say, _Xeno_."  
His slightly misty blue eyes cleared suddenly, becoming wickedly smug, even if only a few people registered the split second change. "Of course, Miss Skeeter, words cannot be taken back. Speaking of which, maybe our illustrious guests would like to review the article the Prophet printed last week?" He withdrew a tiny slip of paper from a tangled knot in his scarf, expanding it to it's original size with a tap of his wand. Before anyone could even think to act, he passed the cut-out over.

Rita, as well as the others assembled in the circle, went deathly pale.

Edith Waffley, listening avidly to her wireless in her sitting room at home, went more of a sickly whey colour.

"Very interesting," Temari finally said after a long pause, her tone mild and pleasant as if humouring a small child. Carefully, she folded up the piece of paper and tucked it in her belt buckle. "Now, shall we continue?"

"Aren't you going to discuss the article?" Dumbledore asked hesitantly.

"Oh yes," she answered brightly. "But since I am now absolutely livid, I don't think I could remain non-physical if we continued to dwell on it. Don't worry, we'll cover it last, wait for me to simmer down a bit."

Someone not-quite suppressed a whimper. No-one saw who it was; they didn't dare take their eyes off of a beatifically smiling Temari and really, who were they to judge?

"Can I have a read?" Harry asked his sister. "I haven't read the Prophet, not that one anyway."

"Oh, of course," Temari said, passing it over to him. Harry opened it up and began reading it through.  
"Now we've established that all Dementors will be removed by force if necessary, maybe we should discuss several incidents that have occurred at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry over the past two years, most notably the exposure to dangerous animals and also to one 'infamous' terrorist by the name of Voldemort-"

The room-wide collective flinch, with the odd smattering of strangled shrieks, made her pause and look around. "Seriously? Not even Madara Uchiha or the Bijuu get this reaction."

"The habit is still leftover from the last war," Snape explained warily. "The man dabbled in Wild Magic to create a Taboo; to locate and track anyone who uttered his name, to create an environment of fear among the people. The best way to get by was to avoid naming him at all."

"Fascinating," Shikamaru muttered, casually tipping back the skull from his face to reveal dark lidded eyes set in a youthful, if slightly drawn, face. "That's tapping into Sage Mode equivalent far beyond anything we've ever heard of. I'd have to consult Naruto for more insight, but he's busy at the moment."

"So you think Voldemort's still alive as well?" Harry chipped in. "Also, _wow_ , the Prophet really outdid itself this time."

"Standard procedure that if you can't find a body, they're most likely still alive," Shikamaru answered him, taking advantage of the stunned silence provided by his face reveal. "And if this is the newspaper's typical attitude, well, I'm feeling a sense of horribly morbid fascination here as to _how_ it can be so bad. Disregarding the fact that they've slandered an international war-hero and shadow-ruler of a nation."

"Boys, boys, they're already scared enough, stop egging them on," Temari groaned. "Now, I've been trained against dangerous animals, but I'm a soldier and those were controlled circumstances. What's been happening at your school were not controlled circumstances, and you are not being trained as a soldier. At least, I hope you're not; I might have missed that part. Did I miss a part about training children as soldiers, Professor Snape?"

"We have a Defense class and some spells taught in later years can be used for direct offense, but no, we do not teach with martial intent," Snape clarified clearly and slowly. "Those creatures should not have been interacting with the children."

"Narrowing it down to maliciousness or incompetence," Shikamaru nodded. "Those who seek to cause harm are easily disposed of once discovered, but incompetence has far deeper roots."

"Dumbledore, so help me, I will _bury_ you myself if I see definitive proof that these incidents happened with your knowledge," Amelia Bones hissed sweetly with a rictus grin. "Might I suggest we invite the Board of Governors over here?"

Dumbledore carefully removed his half-moon glasses and polished them on the edge of his robe. "Of course, Madam Bones," he answered, composed and genial. "Although, might I make the suggestion that some of these fine people sent home? It is getting rather late and somehow I think the Department of Magical Games and Sports would be a little superfluous to proceedings."

A wary ripple of chuckles made it's way through the atrium. But the thought had been set; was this all really necessary? Those well-versed in such things watched avidly as control over the masses faltered.

Angelique Zabini was one of them and waited with piqued interest and bated breath. The two were young, so young. There was talent and inclination there, to be sure, but Dumbledore had experience, familiarity and home advantage on his side.

Temari inclines her head sagely, as if in deference to Dumbledore's request. "True, true, it is a bit of a specific subject. We could easily rearrange that for a more exclusive assembly. But then again, they might want to hear that we have Sirius Black in custody."

Anarchy reigned. In the Ministry, at Hogwarts and in Wizarding homes across the British Isles.

* * *

"When do I see my godson?"

Kankuro stifled an irritated sigh. "For the _last time_ Black-san, not everything is in place yet. You might be innocent by our laws and in our eyes, but our diplomatic immunity won't stick to you. We're waiting on those Trial Transcripts."

"But I didn't get one! You know that!"

"Exactly. But if we publicly ask for them as reparations, they'll be forced to confront and admit to the fact you didn't get one. Then we mention that we just so happen to have you in asylum and if they want us to give you over a proper trial then they'll have to give us some more concessions. Then, when your innocence is proved, they will have to make more reparations for imprisoning you for so long. With our moral high ground, we'll take the opportunity for some strategic bridge-building and use that influence to examine, in-depth, what exactly to do with the societal structure of the Wizarding World.  
Do close your mouth Black-san, it's quite unsightly."

"Bloody Slytherins."

" _Quite,_ " Kankuro smirked, before his expression smoothed over. He pulled over a chair and sat opposite Sirius. "Now, as you have no doubt noticed by now, there are translation matrixes built into the Gate; that is why we can speak each others' languages. Myself and Gaara are not the only ones who have been through the Gate, so talking in English in order to keep something secret may not be as fool proof as _some_ might think."

"Feh." The huffing sound was Sirius' only comment.

"As part and parcel of standard procedure, you have a full medical check-up scheduled including several inoculations and also a mind-check; all three are non-negotiable. Please cooperate with all staff and treat them with respect-"

"Hey, wait a minute! You never said when I would get to see Harry!" Sirius started, jumping up from his chair to point accusingly. "Yeah, I know I'm messed up right now, but that's not going to be forever and he's my godson!"

Kankuro held up a hand to forestall any further complaints. "Stability, Black-san. At the moment, nobody has it. _Harry_ does not have it, as he has just become part of my family and by extent, a different _culture_ , after being emotionally and physically degraded for the grand majority of his formative years.  
We have, and will, give him space and support, but the fact stands that he does not know what sort of person he is; how he feels about many things. He is _not ready_ to be pulled in five different directions at once and make those choices and defend them.  
 _You,_ or rather, your presence in his life, does not offer stability. Once the political situation has plateaued, we can start introducing you two slowly, bit-by-bit. That way lies the path of Least Collateral Damage that children with earth-shattering powers facing emotional issues tend to cause."

"...Why do I get the feeling the last bit is from experience?"

"One or two go off the rails in spectacular fashion every generation or so. I was fortunate enough to be on my otouto's 'Kill You Last' list when he levelled half of Suna a decade ago."

"Wait waitwait wait _wait_. Are we talking about the same kid who runs this place?"

"Like I said; the statistics are promising."

* * *

 ** _*Upbeat jingle plays*_**

 **Ask Kankuro!**

'No.'

 _"Come on, pleeeaase?" Slyfoxcub holds out the tiny figure at arms-length._

'I am not baby-sitting your Muse and that's. Final.'

 _"Look, I know you grew up as a character quicker than I expected, but you do know I control everything you do, right? The asking is a courtesy. And it's only so her time-out has more gravitas, it's not going to be a permanent fixture."_

'I appreciate my brief Ascendancy to Fourth Wall, I really do, I just feel uncomfortable with the mere concept of having an authoritative role in the disciplining of an Eldritch Abomination.'

 _"No, I'm the Eldritch Entity, she's a vague conceptual manifestation of my subconscious power. Whereas you are a definitive characteristics manifestation onto a pre-established template, directed by my conscious power. Also, that cancels out her seniority, so that's not even a factor."_

'Uurggh! I don't have a choice, but _fine_ , I'll take her.'

 _"Don't worry, I made her promise to be good."_

'Still not encouraging.'

 _Could a shinobi learn to use a broomstick?_

'Yes. And also no. Unlike with wands, brooms rely solely on intent, but that has to be conveyed over passive contact with a source of magic, i.e contact with a Magical. Shinobi have the intent, of course, but chakra doesn't interact with broom enchantments and runes particularly well. Since there's no active channelling, the results aren't nearly as degrading and...explosive...as pushing chakra through a wand is. However, chakra is pretty abrasive compared to magic, so those enchantments and runes start failing after a while, like a chemical battery running down because the electron flow has petered out.

But since, like I said, it's done passively, a shinobi can get quite a bit of mileage before things stop working; hopefully not in midair.'

 _Why has a shinobi village never tried to hire a dragon watcher/breeder and pair of matching dragons?_

'Well, reasons for Wizarding dragons anyway:

One: It's supposed to be a Hidden Village and giant reptiles tend to be pretty noticeable.  
Two: Dragons are animals and can be fairly easily trained. Or counter-trained.  
Three: Unlike summons, all dragons really have going for them are their natural armour and fire. Summons can have way more jutsu at their disposal and are also far more intelligent when it comes to figuring out plans to take down strong enemies.

It's just not worth it. But like I said, that's for Wizarding dragons.

We have dragons over here as well.

Yeah.

Still doesn't work.

One: Our dragons are aligned to different elements. Mainly water and air with the occasional lightning, but they're frikkin _Primordials_ , so they use and shape Physical and Spiritual energies consciously and the chakra natures are subconscious(the other way round from humans and summons). It's impossible to try and mesh techniques with a Primordial; including contracting one as a Summon.  
Two: They have human-level intelligence. But inhuman empathy. And morals. A big Hell-No-Bad-Idea combination.  
Three: Shapeshifters.  
Four: Primodials don't breed. As such. Their offspring are never the same species.  
Five: Dragons are nearly always physically part of the landscape or have permanent metaphysical ties to a certain area.  
Six: They obsess. They quickly fixate on unlikely things and _really_ do not take rejection, whether subconscious or conscious, well. At _all_.

 _Does Gaara now sleep normally or does he use a teddy bear?_

'Nowadays he sleeps, proper deep REM sleep, thank you for asking. But he can only sleep for a certain number of hours a day, about four usually. There's no symptoms of sleep deprivation at all, it's just...how he is. On the bright side, he's probably history's Most Efficient Kage, since he and the night-time skeleton staff get about 80% of the paperwork done when everyone else is asleep.

Years before Shukaku got removed, Baki taught him a meditation trick he learned from Mokichi. It's actually an ANBU medical trick to force your brain into a state of paradoxical insomnia, which lets you process information while still resting your brain. Great if you're stuck on guard duty. Unfortunately, it's still not a proper healing sleep, so you're still going to wake up just as stressed as you were before you went under. But at least you escape the majority of the symptoms of sleep deprivation!  
(Sure, Gaara was still incredibly irritable, but he was much less likely to react with homicidal intent.)

No, he does not use a teddy bear now. The reason he was so attached to it when he was a kid, is because it's a Heart Crystal toy. Let me explain.

Bijuu don't sleep as such, but sometimes they decide to rest in one place for a bit, and sometimes they need a spot to reform if they've been 'killed'. Massive amounts of energy focused in no particular direction equals intense heat and pressure. When those places have soft, sandy soil, you get large quartz crystals that can then be mined once the Bijuu has left the area. Guess which country has the most sand and therefore a near-monopoly on Bijuu Quartz? Ha.

Anyway, Bijuu Quartz, given prolonged skin contact, will absorb and store chakra; the longer the contact, the longer the crystal will hold the chakra. So it's an old custom for an expecting mother to infuse a crystal with her chakra and sew it into a soft toy to make a comfort object for the child, and these toys(or just the crystals, if the toy is damaged) are often passed down parent-to-child. They're called Heart Crystal toys. They also side-line as secondary medical tools; 'parental substitutes' for premature babies who can't have prolonged human contact for whatever reason(which Gaara was).  
So yes, Gaara was very attached to that bear, and for good reason.

P.S. The Shodai Kazekage actually gifted the Shodai Hokage two cut crystals of natural green Bijuu Quartz as a Goodwill gift on the occasion of Hashirama's wedding to Mito Uzumaki(basically, 'here's a nice expensive present, please don't sic your scary new Uzumaki on us'). Rumour has it that Hashirama's chakra was still strong inside the crystal even fifty years after his death.'

* * *

 **So my _darling_ muse is now in time-out because she refused to focus on the story. Hopefully this means the next chapter will come a _lot_ sooner. Hopefully.**

 **The Heart Crystal toys came about because of Hashirama's necklace. The crystal had to come from somewhere and if every crystal could absorb and store chakra then we'd see a lot more of them. Then, while shopping for fabric, I saw a packet of toy squeakers and it kind of grew from there.  
Also, clear quartz is supposedly known(I'm not a believer) for absorbing, storing, releasing and regulating energy. Huh.**

 **As always, read, enjoy, and leave a review.**

* * *

 **Deleted scene(now redundant to story)**

 _Pop_

"Katty has biscuits for honoured guests!" The House Elf squeaked as she popped into existence with a loaded plate. And promptly stiffened as a tendril of shadow wrapped around her neck.

"Ah, I apologise for reacting so suddenly," Shikamaru acquiesced, the shadow retreating beneath his chair and fading into nothing. "War reflexes, I'm afraid."

"Fascinating," Xenophilius muttered excitedly into the silence. "Absolutely marvellous, Umbramancy is incredibly rare, almost extinct in this day and age. If I may be incredibly rude and ask how strong your demon ancestry is, my Lord?"

"My...? Oh, no no, Nara aren't of Primordial descent, but we do have a hereditary strong bond to the Shadow Deer which has given us our particular affinity over the centuries; and they aren't exactly _normal_ deer, if you know what I mean." He looked around at all the frozen faces. "What? It's who I am and the Nara Clan aren't the only ones with Primordial Patrons. And speaking of patrons, let's talk about the _lovely_ subject of child endangerment, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore, so help me, I will _bury_ you myself if I see definitive proof that these incidents happened with your knowledge," Amelia Bones hissed sweetly with a rictus grin.

Katty the House Elf quickly and silently deposited the plate of biscuits on the low table in the middle of the circle and popped away, even as the hall quieted in apprehension.


	24. The Facts

**Of rude awakenings, answers and dinner.**

 **God this chapter just refused to flow. Muse is slowly getting her ass in gear, but still more attracted to Dem Bones than this.**

Baki's mind slowly surfaced from the inky black sea of unconsciousness to a steady, high-pitched beep and the familiar smell of boiled linens, bleach, herbs and death. The Infirmary of the Kazekage Towers. Why was he here? The last thing he remembered was being angry at Mokichi...why had he been angry again?  
As awareness began to return, he cracked open his eye against the blinding light. Ugh, everything was blurry. There was person sitting next to him, someone in Puppeteer Blacks he didn't recognise. Couldn't recognise, since something was fiddling with his senses, including his chakra. What was he doing under a Sensory Barrier?

The person leaned forward in an almost speculative way, and commented something. Baki only heard about half of it, but it just so happened to be the half "-ugly one, ain'tcha?"

Half-blind, half-deaf, all chakra-sensing gone, divested of his normal clothing and weapons, all-in-all strategically vulnerable, and having spent many years among the general territorial insanity that was shinobi life, there was really only one instinct for Baki to fall back on.

But where his hand should have met torso and been no more than a firm jab for any Jonin, there was the crack of sternum and collarbone under his palm and the fuzzily-audible crash of a body hitting the next bed over accompanied by a shrill howl of pain.

Who had he hit?

What had he done?

As he struggled to sit up, arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind, holding him still as the Sensory Barrier fell and he was assaulted by a multitude of information. It staggered him as he shook, gasping for breath, until the person holding him flared their chakra against his. His own rose to meet it, coiling around it with the feeling of _MineFamilyProtectMine._

'Mokichi' he tried to say, but only a rasping gurgle came from his throat. Dimly he was aware of people moving around and whimpers of pain and shock from...what had he _done_? A soaked rag was pressed to his lips and he sucked down the water gratefully, as everything round him gradually began to fall into place.

This was the Kazekage Infirmary. From the sunlight in the window, mid-afternoon. The Puppeteer he had struck was small- explaining his erroneous aim, he had assumed an adult- a child. And that was Kokan hovering by the shoulder of the attending med-nin. Kokan's Apprentice; that was who he'd struck.

"She's fine," Mokichi reassured him, feeling the dread echoing through his chakra. "Just a few breaks and some bruising. And really, she knows better than to approach half-conscious shinobi, let alone taunt them, she should have expected you to lash out. You weren't in control of all your faculties, Baki, you're not to blame."

Ah, so that's how it was. He went to lie back, but the movement jostled a few things. Ah. "How long have I been out?" He asked, rubbing some feeling back into the mangled side of his face.

"Uh, just over two days now. We lowered the Sensory Barrier in anticipation of you waking up soon but then-" Mokichi sighed- "things happened, as you know. Don't worry, I insisted on being the one to hook you up to all the equipment. And don't go running off, I _loathe_ replacing ripped out IV drips and catheters even more so."

"What got me, anyway?" Baki asked as he let Mokichi fuss and tuck him in, smoothing out his sheets.

"Because Madara-can't-stay-bloody-dead-Uchiha slung a meteor at your ass and your concussion never got properly treated," Kokan interrupted, coming over to his bed. "I should apologise; I told Misora to watch you for me and alert either of us if you showed signs of waking. I didn't know about the streak of Stupid. I'll make sure she doesn't pull something like that again."

Mokichi glared meaningfully. "Her current injuries are punishment enough. Now go and try and show that you do care."

Kokan snapped out a huff and stalked over to the bed which his Apprentice was now occupying, the tenseness in his back betraying that he'd rather be anywhere but there.

"What crawled up his ass and died, anyway?" Baki grumbled.

"I'll tell you later. Oh, Gaara-sama and Kankuro-sama got back not long after you collapsed; he had an asylum seeker with him and a new nin-animal. Temari-sama and Nara-san went back to take their place as a more impartial show of strength."

"Yes, you will have to tell me later. Am I allowed to get up?"

"No. You have to go back under for a while for the last few tests; the Sensory Barrier needs to go up again as well."

Baki closed his eye and sighed in resignation. "Fine. At least the boys are back to take things up again. And Temari's a sensible girl and the Nara's got a brain; everything should go smoothly on their end."

* * *

Amid the cacophony, shadows darkened, bulged and oozed across the floor, under chairs and over shoes as twin orbs glowed in the gloom.

 _ **"S** i_ **L** _E **n**_ _ **C**_ e _ **"**_

The unholy timbre of Shikamaru's voice resonated through the now dumbstruck atrium and the shadows retreated as he sat and pushed the skull back off of his face. "All this screeching is very unbecoming and not conducive to proceedings. One question at a time please; you're all adults, what a drag."

Xenophilius Lovegood's hand was the first to shoot up. "How did Sirius Black come to be in your custody?"

"My brothers noticed him snooping around Harry's house and saw him as a potential threat, not recognising him as they apprehended him. Only later did they realise his identity and after extensive interrogation decided to grant his plea of asylum; probationary circumstances, of course." Temari, unfazed entirely by the shadow invasion that had occurred not five minutes ago.

Harry recognised the next person to put their hand up.

"Um, excuse me?" Mr Weasley started nervously. "Sirius Black is a deranged murderer. How can you just...take him in?"

"Well, that's the problem, you see," Shikamaru commented, leaning back casually and crossing his arms. "During the interrogation, we found that our evidence didn't match up in places. So, we'd like to request the trial records of Sirius Black. If he is guilty, we'll turn him over to your legal system for his punishment, as is your purview."

"Right." With that, Amelia Bones stood up, raising her wand in the air and producing a booming sound. "Wizengamot Administration Services!"  
At various distances away, scattered people in drab clerk robes sprung to their feet at the summons as if struck by a Stinging Hex.

"Woodruffe! Pick a Senior Clerk and fetch those Records! Hup huphup; MOVE YOURSELVES!"

The Auror grabbed a middle-aged man with thick streaks of grey at his temples and hustled him out of the room with great alacrity. Bones sat down in utter serenity, as if she had not been bellowing across the room like an angry dragon not seconds before. "They should be along in a minute."

"Thank you, Bones-buchō," Temari replied, equally as demurely. "Now, this meeting has been a bit one-sided so far, so why don't you all continue asking your questions until those documents get here; one at a time now, remember."

Dumbledore leaned forward. "Thank you very much for the opportunity. Might I ask a rather trivial question? To the untrained eye, your belt and gauntlets appear to be dragon hide, but not, upon closer inspection. What manner of animal did they come from?"

Temari blinked, caught off guard. "Dragon? You have to be- no, they are most definitely not Dragon. They are Worm leather. We have a thriving, controlled colony some distance away from Sunagakure and the skin is incredibly tough. The dental nerves are also prime ingredients for several medicines as are some of the organs. Why do you ask?"

Dumbledore waved his hand nonchalantly. "It was merely your comment about being trained to fight dangerous creatures, young lady. My curiosity was piqued. But if I might ask what your fiancé was trained in?"

"My strengths are Strategy and Retrieval," the young man replied shortly. "Apart from that, I am merely Clan Head-Presumptive, following the recent death of my father."

Dumbledore removed his glasses and polished them briefly, before replacing them. "My condolences for your loss. But, retrieval of what?"

"Retrieval is merely my skillset, Headmaster," Shikamaru relaxed slightly. "I am trained to dispose of rogue or opposing operatives. That is all."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short, Shika!" Temari chided, before leaning over to Harry but speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. "He devised the strategy and led the team that took down the two immortals Kakuzu of the Threads and Hidan the Bloody Priest. He killed Hidan personally."

"Technically, I didn't kill him," Shikamaru retorted. "I merely dismembered him with explosives and buried his still- screaming, disembodied head ten metres underground within the borders of the Nara Forest. However, deprived of air, food, water and his rituals, he's dead by now. And it was my team and Naruto's backup squad that finished Kakuzu."

Too late; Harry's eyes sparkling with undisguised awe and fascination. As were the eyes of many Hogwarts students listening in over the radio, male and female alike.

Both Dumbledore and Snape, however, took note of the words 'immortals' and 'rituals' and resolved to look into it in private.

The Administration clerk and Auror Woodruffe hurried back into the hall, empty handed, stumbling up to the central circle of chairs. The clerk was sweating nervously, wringing his hands.  
"Um, Madam Bones, uh, ma'am. Sirius...Sirius Black, he, um, there wasn't a, uh, he didn't, um, have a trial."

"Well he must have done," Temari insisted. "You can't just incarcerate someone for over a decade without presenting evidence and affirming guilt."

"Black admitted to his guilt at the scene of the crime," Snape sneered frostily.

"He was laughing like a madman!" Minister Fudge chipped in, unwilling to be accused of complacency in the conversation. "Over and over he kept saying he killed them, that it was his fault!"

"Well, we'll accept interrogation transcripts, testimonies of mind-walks and forensic reports of the casualties," Shikamaru sighed. "I mean, obviously you would have interrogated him for any information he might have had about his master or colleagues. It would be the height of stupidity to imprison a man on the basis of 'everybody knows he's guilty'...Oh my kami, you did, didn't you?" He finished faintly.

Harry watched as Fudge wilted like a plate of spinach. A miserable plate of spinach. If plates of spinach had emotions, of course. Which, considering the existence of Charms and the excess of Wizarding inanity, there probably was a plate of sentient spinach out there somewhere. And it was most likely having a much better time than Minister Fudge.

Now Harry really felt hungry. It _was_ nearly dinnertime and even spinach was sounding pretty appetising right about now. Ugh, and Hogwarts would be serving giant steaming dishes of beef casserole with apple pie for pudding, and he was _missing_ it. Would he come off as whiny if he asked if they could go for food?

"I am actually lost for words," Shikamaru was saying numbly.

"Well, we can't possibly come to a solid conclusion if there isn't a trial," Temari picked up the thread of conversation. "Seriously, I'd feel irresponsible if we just turned the man over when there aren't even any procedures in place. Okay, do you have anything like trial in absentia, or...?'"

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Madam Bones growled stonily. "But the accused has to personally attend proceedings or the absence can be counted as additional evidence of guilt."

"Alright, we can bring Sirius Black here when you have a date set for the Trial and sufficient evidences to present. But only if Shikamaru and I get a tour of Hogwarts."

"That's all you ask for?" Dumbledore blinked. "Well in that case, I should be happy to offer a full tour to you and your fiancé."

"Now that's decided," Shikamaru rose to his feet suddenly, "it's getting late and we do need to have dinner."

"Yes, there's just one more thing," Temari agreed. "Harry, if you could pass me that newspaper cut-out?" Harry did so and she cleared her throat. "I'd just like to quote some of these comments that were made about my little brothers, for the benefit of those who may not have read this;

' _Might the man not be some sort of creature?_ ' Well, isn't that nice, calling them animalistic second-class citizens? Oh, and here's a good one for our whole Village,  
' _Of course, it is only expected that other countries would have lower standards...letting creatures join is proof. Nevertheless, we must make acknowledge that other countries would have lower standards during their slow advancement to standards such as ours_.' Low standards? Oof; pot and kettle much? And I know several hundred highly trained shinobi who would object to that."

"Oh, stop looking like you're all going to faint and fall off the mortal coil!" She snapped suddenly, making everybody jump. "Of course I'm still livid, but I'm hardly going to get violent. Especially now I know what kind of state your judicial system is in and nobody noticed. Good grief, it would practically be mocking the afflicted if I tore you all a new backside for a sensationalist publication!" Her voice dropped in volume a little, pitched to Madam Bones. "Speaking of which, you might want to revise what sort of censorship boundaries you employ. Oh, and don't do this sort of thing again. _Ever_. "

It is at this point that Lucius Malfoy found his tongue. "What manner of Magical being are you, then?"  
But Angelique Zabini seized her chance and turns on him.  
"A powerful one, Malfoy. Her brothers are Battle Mages, whom we collectively just insulted and you did so personally in the middle of Gringotts. I should reflect on what you have done; and you call yourself Slytherin." Turning back to Temari and Shikamaru, she smiled. "Please do ignore him. Dinner, you say? I simply must show you this delightful little restaurant not five minutes from here; call it an olive branch, if you will."

Temari looked down at Harry. "Harry, you should go back to school now; it's getting late, your friends will be worrying you and you have classes in the morning. We'll see you at breakfast anyhow."

"Tomorrow?" Dumbledore protested. "But that's hardly enough time for me to-"

"See you tomorrow kid," Shikamaru cut him off. "And if anybody upsets you with incessant questioning, remember that you don't have to answer if you don't want to and tell them that _I'll_ answer their questions. Now, I think it's time for you to go."

"Well then, Mr Potter," Snape said dryly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It appears that we have been given permission to leave and I see no reason to keep you away from your studies a second longer. To the Floo, and do make some effort not to emerge looking like an errant chimney-sweep this time."

Teacher and student disappeared into green fire and the two shinobi quietly slid out with the ladies Zabini and Bones in tow.

Given carte blanche via the absence of important authority figures, and with nerves still jangling from narrowly escaping presumed certain-death, the rest of the assembly descended en mass to the Floos, to homes and families.

* * *

Despite his best efforts, Harry did emerge from the Floo in Professor Dumbledore's office a sooty mess. A chastising snort from Professor Snape and a cleaning charm later, Harry was silently led to the Great Hall then turfed to one side as a horde of students descended.

Through the clamour, Harry could see a variety of personal wireless radios scattered among the dishes on the tables, but the cacophony of shouted, babbled questions, arms grabbing at his sleeves and shoulders in a desperate and not at all pleasant way combined with a shifting sea of strange faces was starting to make him feel queasy and light-headed.

Then suddenly he was barricaded behind two strong backs and two flyaway swatches of ginger hair.

"Whoa! Back off, let the kid breathe everyone!" George raised his voice even as the noise began to dull to a low-level murmur.

"We've got a few new inventions to test out anyway and we're not even sure if they're permanent or not." Fred grinned nastily, rolling some suspiciously-brightly-coloured balls between his fingers. At the threat, the mob retreated warily a short distance away.

"Thanks guys," Harry breathed shakily even as George wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into his side.  
"No need for thanks Harrikins," he smiled down at him. "You're part of the family."

 _'But I've got my own family now_.' Harry swallowed the guilty thought down. "I just...I'm really hungry and I need to eat, okay?"

"Harry!" Two voices called in unison as Ron and Hermione burrowed their way through the crowd, closely followed by Neville and a Hufflepuff Harry didn't really recognize but felt he should. Before they could speak further though, Professor Sprout began dispersing the gathered students with the aid of some Prefects, including Gabriel.  
"Shame on you, the lot of you, such rudeness and hooligan behaviour during dinner. Away with the lot of you, back to your seats, ten points from all four houses for disruptive behaviour, ten back to Gryffindor for supporting a Housemate. It would have been fifteen, if not for threatening fellow students, Messrs Weasley."

Seeing his path clearing, Harry slipped over to the table and promptly dug into the rich, meaty casserole. The wirelesses were stowed one by one by their respective owners, since the live broadcast was over, but Harry was too busy reflecting on the evening's events to really notice.

Temari was the best Big Sister Ever, obviously, his lack of comparable experiences with sister-figures notwithstanding. She was simply the best, but not quite as Best as Gaara and Kankuro because they believed in how smart he was and gave nice hugs while Temari was just willing to get mad at anyone on his behalf. It was definitely a nice feeling though.

"Is my Aunt alright?" The unusual question broke him from his reverie. It was the oddly-familiar Hufflepuff girl.

"Huh?"

Her knuckles were white as she clutched the back of the chair. "My Auntie. Madam Amelia Bones, Director of the DMLE; she's okay? Those foreigners aren't going to hurt her, right? Or anyone else?"

Harry stared blankly, before his expression cleared. The wirelesses, of course! The students had all been listening in. But still...  
"Well, duh. I mean, Temari said they weren't going to hurt anyone, what's the big deal?"

A vague feeling of dread coiled in his chest as her face crumpled. Then she burst into tears, running back to the Hufflepuff table.

"Oh, _charming_ Harry, really smooth!" Hermione snapped. "Good grief, and I thought _Ron_ had the empathy of a psychopathic lemon!" She stormed off. "I'm going to bed!" She shouted over her shoulder.

"Mate," Ron said seriously. "Speaking from last year, you need to go say sorry to that 'Puff. 'Cause that wasn't a Girl-Thing, that was a You-Being-A-Git-Thing. And you make one 'Puff sad, the whole lot get mad."

"Oh. I'll do it tomorrow then."

* * *

 _ ***Upbeat jingle plays***_

 **Ask Kankuro!**

 _Did the Magicals know about the presence of Kaguya and the Juubi on the moon?_

'To an extent? I mean, there's a common myth about a Moon Princess, but the fact stands that our little sub-dimension has a different moon.

Because when people say that the Sage created the moon, _they aren't kidding_.

The time pre-moon is referred to as the Age of Twilight or sometimes the Age of Glass Seas, because we had stars and seasons; we are still peripherally attached to the landmass you know, rotation and all. But we didn't have a moon. Or tides.

Yeah.

Then Kaguya happened and there was a long period of about just less than a thousand years when she was just, y'know, ruling the land and feeding people to a giant tree. That's most likely when the whole Moon Princess thing travelled through the Gate; it's pretty hard to pinpoint lot of things from that time period because a lot of historical documentation got lost in all the confusion. Most legends we have are actually based in reality and I can dig up a few examples, mostly to do with the foundings of the different Clans. It might be an idea to send a few to Harry and that Granger girl; that book they were going off of originally is just laughable.

Sorry, I'm rambling.

I mean, the Primordials are old enough to remember, but they were either out of the way on the Old Continent or didn't care until the Sage and his brother _made the moon_.

Create a natural satellite a quarter the size of the planet.  
That makes semi-physical titans co-dependant on ley-lines of Nature Energy sit up and notice you.

The Primals were around then as well, but they've mostly died out. Well, they left plenty of descendants among the shinobi so their genes are still hanging around, they themselves are usually too young to remember much of that era. The Embodied are a bit of an unknown Class; each individual operates slightly differently but as a general rule of thumb they aren't big on talking if they're even capable of it.'

 _What is Shukaku up to these days?_

'As far as I know, all the Bijuu are just hanging around their old stomping grounds while everyone sorts themselves out after the war. According to Gaara, the war really did a number on Shukaku and he's off sleeping somewhere up near the Green Belt. Apparently his physical structure was never that stable even at...creation, I guess, hence the Fuuinjutsu markings all over his body and his body being composed of sand not raw chakra.

Explains why being sealed inside people away from sand sent him a little stir-crazy. Hell, he was downright calm and coherent during the war!'

* * *

 **So, yeah. Harry is at the age when he's caught between being a Smol Bean and a Self-centred Teenager. And Baki's awake, yay!**

 **As always, read, enjoy and review.**


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